Working Out (open)

The secret to getting stronger isn't building bigger muscles. No, while that helps, it is not the most important thing. The true path to greater strength is getting your muscle synapses to fire. That is how one builds true, functional strength. The way one does that is through a type of exercise called explosive repeats. (Thats what she said) This is taking a moderate amount of weight and incorporating it into an exercise that requires explosion, such as jumping or throwing.

This is one thing Ten has seriously lacked in his life up to this point. His muscles are powerful and large, but the synapses in them simply do not fire the way they could. This is because his entire life he hasn't really had to push himself all that much. If anything he finds himself holding back immensely so as not to break everything around him. As a result of this his body has not come close to realizing it's true potential. This is something he plans to rectify.

There are two ways he could go about this, the one in which he wanted to pursue wherein he wears an inhibitor collar to reduce his strength to normalized levels so he can workout in the way a normal person would, and yet still see gains in synapse utilization, is not yet possible as he has not been able to procure an inhibitor as of yet. So, instead he finds himself at plan B. Lifting really heavy things.

He's in an old abandoned warehouse on the edge of the docks, recently purchased by the Romano family, which is stocked with a variety of old, rundown pieces of heavy equipment and junk metal. While a normal person would not want to even walk into this place for fear of getting tetnis, Ten doesn't exactly need to worry about that sort of thing. Invulnerable body and all that kinda makes getting cut by a rusty edge sort of unlikely.

Currently the powerful young man has his shirt off, and has a pair of forklifts on his shoulders. Now, most people would think, "Oh, thats just a couple forklifts." as they don't really look all that big. They'd say someone like Ten should easily be able to lift them, and they are right, he can. However, there are two of them, and what most people don't realize is even a small forklift used in a warehouse weighs more than 3 times what your average car weights. And Ten is *jumping.* Not jumping like a normal person would, a few inches off the ground, ever leap with 20 tons of forklift on his back is taking him about 6 feet in the air. And he's doing it for 30 seconds straight.. before taking a 20 second break. Six sets like this before he stops to get some water.

Another exercise he does a few minutes later that builds explosive power is a take off of plyometrics, though he doesn't have any giant bands that would add enough resistance to make him notice. Instead he uses chains, which he attaches to a few very large steel girders that he's bent in half.

He does double leg shots around the warehouse, moving in an oval shape to avoid walls. Shooting forward and going to one knee, then bringing his post leg up and driving forward again in a repetitious cycle. He does this for 3 minutes, with a one minute break between, for five sets.

Clap, clap, clap. "Whoa, that is beyond sick. Do you think you could help me out?" As it would just so happen, Blue Lantern had been flying through this area with a thought on his mind.

My world is getting more and more dangerous and if I wanna stay alive or be able to REALLY protect others. I need to be able to defend myself and those I care about without depending on the ring all the time. A noble concept, but without the right teacher or one that could comprehend his situation, it would be a fruitless pursuit. Until, Mark heard a bunch of noise and flew down to investigate and found Ten inside the warehouse and saw the big man lifting. He remained quiet for a moment and thought to himself, maybe this could be who he was looking for.

When Mark entered Ten had been laying on a steel girder, bench pressing another steel girder, that had 4 other steel girders bent around it, two on each side. That must be at least 30 tons, probably more, that he's pressing.. and he CLEARLY bent the girders himself too. And he's tossing it in the air a few feet with each press, then catching it when it comes down, and pressing again. Explosive power.

He didn't even notice the Teen Lantern come in, and when Mark says something it startles the invulnerable young man enough that he misses his catch, and 30+ tons of steel comes down onto his chest... and doesn't do a damn thing to him. He just regrips and presses it, then drops it behind him and sits up.

"....You... are a lantern." is what he says.

PANIC! Earthquake!

EEP! Aftershock!

Oh hell! Another aftershock!

Oh gee. More aftershocks.

Oh... Um... Maybe this isn't an earthquake...?

Tremors rocked across the dockyard. They were palpable yet not destructive. Their vibrations visible across stagnant puddles, Jurassic Park style. Vernon crawled out from beneath an upturned longboat, which had served as his improvised safety position for the perceived seismic event. Y'know, in case the... sky fell on him... or something.

Now he threw caution to the wind, putting Chicken Little's sage wisdom to the back of his mind. Besides, if there really was a skyfall, James Bond would sort it out. Scapegoat had never seen the film, but he extrapolated from its name. All Bond movies had intuitive titles. Dr No was about the NHS refusing to treat patients, and From Russia With Love had been a particularly mundane tale about a postcard.

Sheesh. I'm culture deprived. Gotta hit a cinema some time.

Whatever caused the vibrations finally stopped. Vernon was now stood on top of the longboat, scanning the horizon on his tip-toes. Nothing caught his attention. There was no scent of decay in the wind. So it wasn't the dead rising again (like meals on wheels last time). Scapegoat collapsed, throwing his back against the keel. After death, all these little curiousities of life were suppose to be answered. False advertising. He was even more in the dark now than ever. That ruckus could have been anything. Emanated from anywhere.

Eee! Blue light! The spry, youthful ghoul rose, craning his neck back to look overhead. An incandescent glow descended in the distance. Scapegoat was fixated on the sudden wonder until it had completely disappeared from sight, “Starlight. Star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may. I wish I might. Investigate further. 'Cus it ain't night.” He moved out.

"Very astute of you, and you'rrree really strong man. How are you doin that by the way? I don't see any bulging muscles or anything. I mean you are big, but not like super metahuman big." Mark said in amazement. Then he got a notion in his head. "Are you a shapeshifting alien or something?" Mark said floating around him and then shined a blue light on Ten to try and see if anything reacted to it. Although, nothing seemed to be happening. "Anyway, ya help me out maybe? You're a strong guy, and I wanna get stronger, without using my ring."

"I am not an alien." he says as he stands up. Not muscled? Hardly. This guy really is big. Almost 7 feet tall, well over 300 pounds at least. It might not be ridiculous meta human big, but he's clearly not normal.

"I just do it. No other human is stronger than me.. not without being experimented on or enhanced some way.. but then they aren't really human anymore, are they?" Rhetorical question, really. "As for helping you out.. whats in it for me? And isn't it customary to introduce yourself?"

Scouting wasn't exactly playing to the ghoul's strengths. His awareness was shoddy at best. There were times in his life - his actual life - when he'd plumb looked through what he had been looking for! It was a tendency to lose focus, something that a decade of torture hadn't corrected. Instead accentuating it.

There were so many warehouses littered about that the mysterious blue light could have dropped into any number of them. Vernon muttered a tune to himself as he tried his best to be stealthy, "♪ Sneaking, sneaking, how I like my sneaking. Sneaking, sneaking; no one hear me sneak."

Still nothing. It was as if what had happened was an act of nature. Here one minute, gone the next.

Spoiler:

"Oh yeah, sorry, I've been gettin a bit too used to peeps calling me Lantern I guess. I'm Mark Rowan and I'm a defender of Earth, so technically by helping me you kinda help yourself, ya know? But, if it's money your after, I don't usually get paid in useful human forms of cash in my line of work." Mark said scratching the back of his head. He probably should've thought he had to pay the man for his services before just coming up and asking him for a favor, but Mark thought he still might do it just out of the goodness of his heart.

"Hmm.. Defender of Earth, hunh? Alright. Ill help you out. Teach you some basics. But ya owe me a favor." The big guy nods and turns... Moving out towards a more open spot.

"The first thing ya gotta know is the stance. You want to stand strong, so you can't be pushed back easily. Staggered, knees bent a little. This is because your legs are like shock absorbers, when you get hit they bend, absorbing the shock of the impact. Next is your hands.. Keep them up, lead hand four inches in front, rear hand at your eyebrow, elbows tucked in." Ten takes up the stance to demonstrate.

It was always good when you could learn something new, and this was a lesson in futility. The ghoul had grown bored with his investigation. There was nothing unusual here, unless this seaweed accumulation was abnormal. Scapegoat had found a pay-for-view telescope to look through, but it only sighted offshore. He'd loosened it by increments to swivel 360 degrees, but this strategy had also proven a flop.

Now the telescope stand was just his armrest. So much for this exciting detour. Vernon would have to return to what he usually did. Commit sins, dance a little, and then dig up a corpse. There was nothing to grave-robbing. He could be in and out of a graveyard in ten minutes tops. But the first thing ya gotta know is the stance... Wait - did someone else just say that?

It was! Vernon had just heard a voice! The warehouse right next to him. Finally some company to share these lonely times with. The ghoul shifted his weight, causing the telescope to swing round and knock him over the barrier.

SPLASH

"Ew! It's in my hair!"

SPLISH! SPLOSH!

"What the hell is- oh cr*p! Get it off! Get it off!"

SPLOOSH

"Eek! Die you critter! DIIIEEE!"

Scapegoat burst through a side-door to the warehouse and slammed it shut behind him. Seaweed clung to his hair whilst his clothes dripped profusely. Soon noticing his company, the ghoul spoke, "Hi." Scapegoat tried to regain the composure his soaking had robbed him of, "I'm here to fix the problem with your plumbing. Do not go in there."

"Whoot!" Mark yelled out in victory at hearing him say he'd help. Then as he went back through the basics of boxing again he imitated what Ten said. Trying to fathom how he could use these teachings in connection with his ring or against fighting certain types of aliens. But, before they could really get going someone burst in and drew Mark's gaze. "Uhhh, friend of yours?" The Lantern relinquishes his boxing stance and just points his ring hand at the guy, until he shows himself not to be hostile, at which point Mark just waves back as awkwardly as he came in.

"A little wider... hehe.. thats what she said.. What the...?" Ten turns as Scapegoat comes crashing in. There is no plumbing in this ancient warehouse. The place has been abandoned for years.

"I don't know why you're here.. but ya best get to steppin before I get to stompin."

There was a mixed reception. At first Vernon wondered if he'd stumbled into some Behemoth hideout. They were always a shady bunch down this end of town. Gangs conducting the illegal business of... dancing gangnam style or something. Vernon steered clear of their ilk. He knew when to leave matters in the hands of Ross Kemp.

Neither of the strangers seemed like druggies, unless the hugemongous guy was taking steroids. One thing was clear, however. He wanted Scapegoat to leave, "You would send me on my way?" After weighing all his options, Vernon decided that he liked it in this decrepit warehouse. Yeah! And n-not just because some big meanie was being a bully or nuthin'. They just didn't know him. If they knew Vernon they would like him. A-And invite him to barbeques!

It was time to play - wait for it - the sympathy card.

"Look I've not been totally honest. No doubt you were completely beguiled by my cunning cover story. But I'm not actually here to fix plumbing. I know! Nearly believed it myself." Now while they recover from that stunning revelation, hit 'em with puppy dog eyes! Scapegoat crossed his arms and began to shiver, "I fell into the harbour. If I go back outside I'm sure to catch my death of something."

He sniffed before coughing pathetically, "Can I dry off here?"

"It wouldn't bother me to have another set of eyes watch me train. Hello, I go by Blue or Teen Lantern, but if it works better for you. You can call me Mark." BL smiled gently, always the one to give chances and take others at their word. "You're cold!? Why don't you just relax until you can warm up or something, while me and my work out buddy here get back to work. Or should I call you coach?" Lantern pretty much just offered up their private spar/work out time as a spectacle to the new comer without asking Ten, but if he had asked and he said no it would've made Mark feel bad. There was no way he would be able to focus on training then, with the thought of knowing this poor person could catch a cold out there.