A Hunter's Triathlon (Open)

Waves rose and fell around him, the wake kept threatening to pull him under. His head swung right as his left arm pulled water passed him, legs kicked with all their might. Pluton's front crawl was practiced, he had honed it during his time in Vaccuo, but the waves of a continent beach paled in comparison to that of an Island. As sea-foam bubbled around him he was tempest tossed, every wave threatened to drown him but he was much more worried about losing his position. He had to get further out, he had to complete this event! He took a deep breath, inhaling just a little seawater, before lowering his head and continuing to swing. Pluton didn't own a swimming costume, he was out there in a tank top and one of his two pairs of baggy trousers. His fingers were struggling to hold together, the ideal scooping curve was broken! He growled another breath from the left, feeling a wave crash against him... almost there!

As he rose from the wake Pluton's fingertips caught on something hard, concrete and metal, he had done it! He had swam out far enough and hit the buoy that floated far out to sea. As his hand came down to whack it seagulls scattered, surprised to see a human out this far... the hard part was done, at least... he thought that had been the hard part? As he turned in an attempt to swim back a wave engulfed him, plunging him deep beneath the ocean's surface. He was dazed, it was fortunate that he was already chilled to the bone, but he continued to force himself forward. Rising proved to be an issue however, every time he would come up for a breath, he kept being forced back beneath. Stealing himself however he pushed on, letting the tide urge him forward like a guiding smack. He could feel himself weaken with every stroke, but he knew it would make him stronger eventually! It had to... right? Rising to breath he was plunged downward by a particularly strong wave, he met the bottom... but that meant he was nearing the shore! He dragged himself along the bottom, felt his head emerge, and immediately collapsed on the beach.

He began to drag himself up the shore, back toward the spot he had lain out his bags and clothing... unable to rise from the water. "A...quick break and then the run..."

Sindre looked up at the sky, he knew this wasn’t the first beach he’d visited, though his memory files appeared corrupted regarding the first. He did know that the area overlooking the beach had few people around. Which was good for the android, as he needed time to think about things. He had no clue what he’d been thinking about joining the academy, after all he was a combat android, one that had been rather active decades before from what he did know, and he had no clue precisely what he had done prior to being shut down. The files were corrupted, what few memories he had were of little use in this regard.

However, this decision itself hadn’t been what prompted this introspection, but rather the tech specialty he’d chosen as his major. He didn’t want to simply fulfill his created function. An abnormal idea for a machine as far as he knew. He just didn’t truly know what to do with the situation, and doubts about the situation kept sneaking into his electronic mind despite his best efforts to prevent it.

Movement from farther down the beach caught the machine’s attention, and he moved from the rock he’d been on to the beach to investigate. Perhaps it was some type of Grimm? He could use a good fight after all, and a Grimm would be a welcome distraction from his own doubts.

The robot moved down towards the area of the beach, stopping when he saw the cause of the disturbance to be a human boy.

“Tch, here I thought you would be interesting,” he stated, the fact the human seemed to have been exhausted only further dissuading him. He looked over the human for a moment, deciding that they probably weren’t about to keel over before beginning to walk back up the beach. He hadn’t missed the comment about running and assumed it to be one of those strange human “physical challenges” that he’d heard about. The type an athlete might commit to.

"Eh?! What'cha sayin' to me?!"There was a splutter of water, Pluton twisted his head left and right; liquid flowed outward like a fountain. He managed to flip onto his back and then sit up, gripping his nose he attempted to exhale through it and thusly popped his ears. Salt water had flattened his white hair over his eyes, whipping his head back he heaved a deep breath before rising to his feet; slipping his shoes on and feeling the discomfort of sand within them. "Were you tryin' to talk some smack while I was deaf?! Too scared to talk when I can hear you eh?! Eh?!"

Pluton pulled off his tank top, thoroughly wringing it out, before putting it into his bag and pulling forth a matching one. Putting it on the shirt was immediately soaked, it wasn't as though he'd rung out the rest of his body. As if it hadn't been when Pluton took the top off; his defined, broad, musculature was on display... but as were some rather painful, bordering on dangerous, scars. Marks which, had the blow been a little deeper, were in deadly positions. Some were clearly Grimm inflicted, four lines running down the centre of his chest were likely beowulf claws... two dark marks around his lower ribs were likely where a boarbatusk had impacted, while others were much less clear. It was clear though that none of these injuries were fresh, he hadn't been hurt this badly for a number of months. He turned up his nose to the stranger; "Damn, I'm supposed to be runnin' and you've ticked me off. I've got to get to it!"

Pulling his bag over his back, which looked more like a plastic crate with two straps than a typical rucksack, Pluton began to do some further warm ups. It had become quite apparent he was shivering, his skin lacking it's natural (mildly sunburned) tan and appearing comparable to porcelain. He refused to shiver, winding his shoulders and doing lunges simultaneously.

Sindre watched the human postulate with a large degree of boredom on his part, wondering if all human athletes were this much of a fool. The muscle was a surprising sight, as it at least indicated this human was in decent shape…though the scars similarly told the android he likely wasn’t too competent of a fighter. Or perhaps just an idiot.

He noted the shivering of the human and assumed the human hadn’t even considered his current condition before attempting commit himself to whatever idiocy he was planning. “Maybe you ain’t boring, just stupid.” He commented, this time raising his voice a bit so as not to be ignored. The boy was going to kill himself with this crap, and while Sindre didn’t really care he wasn’t about to let himself be caught up in it. “looks to me like you’re trying to kill yourself with this crap. Are all humans this foolish?”

"EH?! You think yourself smarter than me do ya? How smart can ya be face down in the sand? Better yet, six feet under it! That's uh... like... got to be almost two metres!" Pluton's stretching ceased, heat having built back up in his body (aided by aura, though he didn't understand it). He attempted to grin menacingly, ending up looking rather goofy; "If ya ain't pushin' yourself to the limit, ya ain't doin' the right thing. Getin' gnarly scars is a sign of strength, you took the hit and lived after all! Like how you've got that weird lookin' mark on your cheek, hopefully that means ya've lived through somethin'. Maybe it'd make it worth beatin' you down!"

He began to wind his shoulder, feeling a twinge of pain. The force of the waves hadn't left him completely unmarked, it was almost a certainty that great purple blotches would soon be appearing on his shoulders and back. Aura could protect you from a lot, but with Pluton's lack of control the constant barrage of sea water had proven a little too much. Maybe in a couple of years he'd be able to do that more casually. "Puttin' yourself in danger is the only way to get stronger, fanus or human you should know that! My name's PLuton, I'm way past human by now! Somethin' more like... hyperhuman... no... ultrahuman- no no, Superhuman! That's it yeah!"