Lionel's Power Training

Lionel painfully slammed his fist once more into the training dummy he had found, this was going well, he could almost feel the skin on his knuckles hardening. He lashed out with a kick, clashing with the wait of the dummy. He swung his fist up in an uppercut, the dummy lifted slightly off of the ground. Lionel surged lightning into his hand, before yelling out "Lightning Dragon's Iron Fist!" lightning surged from his hand and he clashed with the wooden target, another uppercut, splinters flew out, some hitting him, several cracks and a large dent, he had dented wood, impressive, he thought to himself, the dummy flew up a little more into the air. He jumped and raised his right leg up as high as he could, slamming his heel into the "head" of the dummy, cracking the wood, his other foot landed, he switched legs, and while pivoting on one leg span around slamming the heel of the other into the training dummy, leaving a crack on impact with a hail of splinters. He quickly followed that with a flurry of straight punches, splinters flying everywhere around him, a small dent even forming and the wood cracking slightly. He grabbed the training dummy and flipped it over his head, smashing against the floor, punching it wildly as he dived on it, he smashed a particularly hard hit which left some splinters in his hand, in some areas there was even a little sawdust, now that was overkill. He stomped on the dummy, not much damage though, as he was exhausted. He grabbed a mug of coffee, and tipped in glucose pills, chugging it down. Lionel went on to pick the ever increasing splinters out of his body, wincing.

He dragged himself towards the dummy, revitalised, yanking it to its figurative "feet", he wrapped some more bandages around his hands, before resuming. He started with a powerful right hook which seemed to splinter the very core of the dummy, if the dummy was a human, it would have been dead a long time ago at this rate. He swung his foot around, lightning was flowing through his veins. His foot impacted with the dummy, flinging it back sliding against the floor, impressive as it was weighed down with lead. He raised his arm, surging lightning through his veins that was begging to be released towards his right arm, then his wrist, then his palm, and releasing his, the very wood splintered. Lightning strikes at over a thousand degrees Celsius the wood burst into a small flame on impact that immediately caught the splinters that were plentiful, igniting them, the whole thing was ablaze in a matter of seconds. "That... may have went a slight bit too far..." he grabbed the dummy, burning his hands and sprinted outside with it, flinging it into the koi pond. "Poor koi." He mumbled, pulling the singed and waterlogged dummy out of the pond, he guessed it could work as firewood when it dried out.

Lionel dragged himself indoors, removing his current bandages and pouring water on his burns and splinter cuts. He proceeded to find a punching bag, taking joy in the lack of splinters, he pounded away. He started with a straight punch towards the center of the punching bag. It clashed heavily against the worn leather, he swung another punch, a left hook, swinging the punching bag to one side, Lionel quickly followed and soon after this he was back on the ball, clashing into it with a roundhouse kick pounding away at the old leather once more. He swung a quick and sudden barrage of punches, leaving his knuckles slightly bruised, yet he paid little notice to this and continued to train as he was doing, leaving marks in his hands as well as thr old leather. He swung a headbutt for no real reason before swinging a right hook and finishing the combo with another roundhouse kick, the punching bag shook unsteadily on the hook it was strung up on, nearing the point of simply falling off the hook, it stopped eventually.

Once more, Lionel began a flurry of rapid yet meaningful attacks, a barrage of punches was the opener, left hook, right hook, right handed straight, and so on. Soon after, he broke into another combo, left hook, right hook, straight, headbutt, knee, right elbow, left elbow, headbutt, roundhouse kick with his right foot, roundhouse kick with his left foot. He felt stronger, not a major amount, but still quite stronger. Great! He felt great.

Lionel geared up for another training match, he was sparring this time against an infamous opponent, who was renowned for being vicious, he stepped up the stairs into the ring, wrapping his signature fist wrappings, basically bandages, around his knuckles. He finished tightening them around his hands. His opponent, a fully grown muscular adult, stepped into the ring, twice Lionel's size. Lionel smiled "This will be fun." His opponent raised his fists, Lionel quickly followed suit, raising his own knuckles. The bell rang, he lashed out with a vicious right hook, smashing into the opponents jaw, his opponents head jerked, there was a sickening crack. The last thing Lionel had expected to happen, happened; the opponent fought back, brushing off the presumably dislocated jaw, his opponent swung his right fist out, in a vicious straight, jarring Lionel's chest, but Lionel has leapt back, and the blow merely brushed him. Aside from the minor amount of contact in the straight Lionel had just received, it hurt like H*ll, he did NOT want to be hit dead on. Lionel realised, he had lost ground... he had to win it back. Lionel leapt towards his opponent, swinging his fists, yelling at the top of his lungs... fear... fear was his weapon. His opponent leapt back, Lionel swung around a roundhouse kick to the already presumably dislocated jaw of his opponent. It clashed head on, his opponents yells cancelled out any other sounds, if it was not dislocated or broken before, it was now. Lionel stepped out of the ring and grabbed a towel, victory, he grinned. He went to the locker room, and grabbed his clothes, getting changed back into them. He guzzled down a bottle of an energy drink. Wiping his mouth, he left the dojo, walking down the street.

Lionel, while walking home from the dojo, decided to take a shortcut down a back alley, three thuggish looking men suddenly appear, almost as if out of nowhere, cornering him. One spoke up "We heard what you did to our buddy at the dojo! You are gonna wish you never had done that punk!" Lionel panicked, but training came into play, he counted... three, two were armed, one with a combat knife, another with a metal pipe, wait... oh, the third has a baseball bat behind their back. Three armed. Lionel reached for his tanto, bringing it out of it sheathe, and gripping it in his hand. The thugs surged, the first, with the pipe swung at him, he rolled out of the way and gouged his eye with the hilt of his Tanto. He fell back on the ground clutching at his mangled eye. One down, two left. The one with the knife stabbed towards Lionel viciously, only to have their wrist clutched. Lionel did not expect them to follow through, the knife stabbed into Lionel's chest, he kicked at the thugs kneecap, the thugs fell back, Lionel clutched at his wound, he was lucky, it was not too deep, barely scratched the surface in fact. Damned lucky he was. One more to go, the last guy surged forward with his bat, Lionel raised his arm, lightning flowed through his veins into the palm of his hands, arcing out and into the remaining thugs chest, it was the effects of a taser. The thug crumpled and had a few convulsions, Lionel clutched his minor would, taking the bandages from his fists and wrapping them around his chest. He stumbled home to his apartment.

A few days later, he finally recovered from his wounds, it seems it would be better to train from home from now on, at least for a week or so. He decided to go for a jog, he stretched, yawning, actually... he might just take another day off. No! He must train, and not get out of shape, a run to the guild would be sufficient. He drank down a pot of coffee, dashing outside, slamming the door behind him. He felt his legs pulsing after a while, he felt the makings of a pain in his side after a few blocks, must be the wound, mostly healed anyway, so it wouldn't be anything serious wrong with running. He arrived at the guild and went upstairs to his study, opening the door and slumping down in his swivel chair, behind his nice cushy oak table, for a rest. After that amount of training and vicious combat, most wouldn't blame him for it anyway.
[1500]
[20 Power Gained]