PM to join [Asra's Bath House & Spa] Beef in the Water (Imass)

[Khemkhaengawut]

34th – Winter – 515 AV
16th Bell

The surprise of the Chaktawe was major once he entered the bath house. It wasn’t as much for the statues of Matsuki, the Goddess of Rain his people venerated, nor was the open roof that exposed the waters to the harsh winter climate. Instead, it was the discovery that both men and women bathed in the same waters without any shame. While this was a feat common amongst his people, the rest of the world apparently didn’t believe in such freedom regarding one’s body. It was a good sign this location lacked prudes, something the shameless Khemkhaengawut truly appreciated now that he was inside. The cost was perhaps a bit harsh, five silver pieces being something he didn’t enjoy spending for a simple bath, yet the sight of the women peacefully awaiting for a proper male like himself to approach them was truly comforting. Much like any other citizen, the curious stares greeted him as he walked the hallways bare naked. Most of the times, the stares were directed towards his black eyes as it was apparently something rather unusual in these parts. Others, it was his missing arm what caught the attention. Nevertheless, feeling like the center of attention was truly something he deserved.

Striding proudly through the edges of the water, it was more of a parade rather than indecision regarding which spot he should occupy. At the same time, his eyes scouted around for the most interested females. The constant sway of the waters was annoying as his fingertips tinkled as they detected the motions. Actually, it wasn’t annoying. Moving in a crowd was annoying, yet the bathhouse with the swaying waters and moving beings was simply exhausting. Catching all the motions with the fingertips was, in this occasion, a real curse. Before he realized it, he had returned to his original spot. As his own egocentrism wasn’t satisfied, and the stares were less and less frequent, the Chaktawe finally began a more aggressive technique to attract the opposite sex’ attention. Casually, he’d take a deep breath and rather covertly flex his chest. Confidence in his properly worked musculature, he’d raise both arms up into the sky as he still flexed the chest and shoulders – despite the amputated limb. In a way, he needed to stretch out as the cold was finally starting to affect him.

Despite the half chopped off arm, most parts of his musculature was balanced. The biceps and triceps of his crippled arm he’d never be able to train, yet there were some ways of training the chest and back despite his condition. His body would never be balanced, and he knew that. For now, however, that did not bother him. Adding a sonorous cue in the form of a moan, he’d casually turn around and, standing on the tips of his toes, he’d extend both arms in order to flex the upper back while making sure his spine was straight. Surely the females were already drooling for him already. Nyka was proving to be a place in which one couldn’t score a decent meal, having lost some weight since he entered this somewhat strict place, yet he was still amongst the elite regarding muscle mass. Eyebrows raised and smirk on his lips, he finally approached the waters with the intention of dropping himself inside and begin his courtship over the trapped females.

[Imass]

Imass sat silently in the Bath House enjoying simply soaking in the soothing waters. The Knight had not relaxed in such fashion for years. The muscles on his back ached, but it was good feeling. Knotted joints seemed to unravel as he relaxed. The blue man's body soaked in all of the purifying waters, leaving him feeling revitalized.

Imass closed his eyes to the rest of world and tried to meditate. It was no use though, because his mind just screamed with constant chatter. At one time the blue man could meditate easily.

Giving that notion up, he sat on the edge of the pool and let his feet dangle in the water. Scanning the scene, the blue man tried to look for any females worth his attention. Imass hadn't felt the touch of a woman since before the war, many years ago. None of the girls were looking at him though, they seemed to be eyeing the new-comer to the bath house; a strange looking man, with only one arm and covered in tattoos. His physique was disproportionately built, no small part to his gimp arm. The man walked around the bath house in a full circle, his energy began to fill the room. Imass had no clue what the man was doing, but it seemed to get the attention of several females.

Looking at his own body, he frowned at his unfit state of being. Previously thick muscle mass, was cut down immensely while imprisoned. The Knight still had an athletic form though; the Nuits could not rob a life time of martial training from him.

Standing up, the Akalak decided to circle the bath in the same manner as the Chaktawe even though he had never tried such a strategy to get females. The blue man stretched his upper body as he walked. He twisted his torso, stretched his triceps and biceps, and walked on his toes. He tried to do it casually though, as if it was no big deal, like he wasn't even trying to attract any females.

Shining in proper light now, one could see the scars from his imprisonment in Sahova. The Akalak's right arm/shoulder may have been mistaken for being a full tattooed sleeve, but it was actually the discolored remains of countless lacerations; his back seemed to have been clawed by animals and cut with bull whips. Other random scars also littered his body, but they all had one thing in common: they were obviously healed by a powerful Rak'keli follower.

Returning full circle, the blue man placed a foot on a stone bench and began to stretch his hip-flexers. Pushing with both hands on his lower back, Imass leaned into his raised leg, while arching his back and looking at the sky.

"Ahhhhh..." The Knight sounded relieved, "Yeeeeeah,"

[Khemkhaengawut]

A war was about to befall upon the bath house. The statues of the Goddesses would be the witnesses of the outcome, the females still in the water would be the judges, and the two men would be the combatants. Khemkhaengawut had spotted his nemesis across the pool, an adversary that was a cast from an inverse mirror. His own reddish flesh contrasted with the challenger’s blue skin. The Chaktawe offered ink and the Akalak offered scars. The Chaktawe was short on hair, while the Akalak displayed a hairy physique. The Chaktawe offered an overworked musculature covered by a generous layer of fat, while the Akalak offered a thinner build. Competition was not the word to describe what was about to happen, but only the word war could be used to properly describe it.


The females in the bath house found themselves struggling to take a pick, both options appealing yet both so different, specialized on extreme opposites. His war face came through, showing his teeth to the distant challenger before he dropped the casual act and openly began posing on his edge of the pool. Roaring loudly, the champion would extend his arms to the sides before he gathered all his might into his intense flex. Said flex brought onward his pectorals and the strains of his muscle fibers in his shoulders, his core going rigid as much as his gigantic quadriceps, their size even further increased as the gigantic man stood on the tip of his toes. At the same time, his own arms closed in an impersonation of a chicken, which served both to complete the intense flex and to taunt his challenger. If someone was taking all the females, it would be the crimson champion.


To even further his display of might, the Chaktawe would spin on his heels and give the ladies a clear sight of his rear. That rear was of course his back, the most developed part of his body by far yet being barely caught by the legs. Raising both arm and half-arm up into the air, he’d slowly flex his arms as he pointed his elbows to the sides, the back suddenly beginning to form valleys and hills on his skin as the muscles pressed from underneath. To the average female and those not that civilized into the art of weight-lifting would almost seem as those bumps coming from underneath his skin would explode any moment now. Khemkhaengawut made sure to flex with all his strength of course, hoping to bring out his best details for the undecided females. Also, he added a vocal cue once more.


Most of the females were, however, not there to find a man. Most of them were annoyed by any other sound that wasn’t the water, others taking their towels and leaving already, and a very few watching the males with skepticism rather than interest. Apparently, they came here to relax rather than find a beast of a man to take home. The Chaktawe, once done with his superior display of his might, discovered the sad fact of the fleeing females as he turned around. The number of females was waning to only leave the males whom he had no desire to courtship. In a last attempt to rekindle their interest, he’d speak out loudly with his boasting voice. “Don’t be fooled by anyone else. Red meat is the only meat that’s healthy for you! HA!” And with that, he would stare back at the Akalak as he dropped himself into the water – hoping the cold hadn’t shrunk his muscles and dimmed his manhood. Any true man was only represented by the size of the valleys that ran between their pectorals, by the abdominals that could grate cheese, and by the back that could lift a giant boulder.


Nevertheless, even if he was the first to enter the water, he would await for the Akalak to choose to face him inside. Only the females they both approached and attempted to courtship were qualified to naming a champion amongst the two, and that champion would leave with said females hanging from their arms.

[Imass]

Stretching his hip-flexer, the Akalak began to twist a little and accidentally cracked his lower back in euphoric relief. Blood seemed to flow more freely now and a rush came to his head. He smiled at the new found amelioration of the back pain caused from imprisonment. I need to do that again, the Akalak thought as he switched up legs to stretch.

Making eye contact with the muscle-bound gimp again, the man raised his arm and stump into brought them down into flex with a massive roar. Expressionlessly, Imass watched as the tattooed man showed his built neck, shoulders, and chest. The Akalak could feel the heat of challenge now as the man shifted into a new position, this time showing off his voluminous biceps and his quads. Imass noted that all his grunting and flexing was completely directed at himself, as if he thought he was better looking than the Akalak. The Knight couldn't help but chuckle at him, because he was certain he could best such a egotistical gimp in martial strife. When the Chaktawe spun around and began to show his arse and intricate artwork on his back off to the females, the blue-man turned to see the reactions of the girls. It seemed like several of them were disgusted at the display and simply walked away. A few of the women (those who could handle such men) remained and looked on, slowly edging closer.

Finally finishing up his bravado, the gimp taunted Imass verbally and edged into the water staring him down. Realizing that everyone was looking at him now, the knight laughed for a moment. I can't compete with his muscular size right now, Imass thought, I know,

Stepping up for his turn to show off, the Akalak began to breathe very deeply. Imass inhaled, while raising both hand over his head; he locked them together with his index fingers pointing straight up. Imass held this position for several moments, his chest filled and his laterals rippling to show the females he had a wider, more symmetrical frame compared to the Chaktawe. Exhaling the Akalak leaned to his right, stretching his whole entire upper-body until it was almost parallel to the ground. He was forced to tighten his ab muscles during this display and pointed his finger right at Khemkhaengawut. In the last second of the display, Imass proceed to twist his shoulders up to show everyone that he could perform a compound stretch (torso parallel to the ground and shoulder turned to sky).

Taking a deep breathe in, the Akalak returned normal, "Let's see you do that, gimpy," Imass knew he couldn't because it required the balance of two arms. Casually, the Akalak did the whole process again, but this time to the left so he could show the females that lingered what he could do.

[Khemkhaengawut]

The Chaktawe may be a gimp, but he was proud of his status. He himself had chopped off his right arm and proved daily that he out of all people was better than everyone else with just one hand. In a way, he had hindered himself and his strength to give everyone else a chance. Unlike him and his strength, the Akalak was nothing but a lazy goof whom preferred to sleep rather than lift some logs or boulders. Trying to stand out and challenge the king of strength that was Khemkhaengawut was a direct insult, something the testosterone filled man was about to demonstrate to the ignorant. Obviously, he lacked an arm to perform the overly complicated pose the Akalak had just done, so he would have to take out the heavy weaponry if he wanted to submerse the fool into despair.

Delivering his characteristic ‘HA!’ once again, Khemkhaengawut stepped deeper into the water until the water was slightly below his waist. Chaktawe were often blessed with long legs, something Khemkhaengawut took into account as he was one of those blessed. “Watch this, skeleton.” With that said for the whole bath house to hear, the Chaktawe kneeled and disappeared underwater. He was gone for a couple of ticks as if he had drowned in the shallow waters that, for the manly man, smelled like future intercourse with all the females present and surely tasted like the salty tears the Akalak was about to release. His body’s silhouette stirred underwater, until eventually his intentions were made known. His two feet surfaced gently from the surface of the water, rising and rising as the legs too emerged. The rise kept going until both of them rose like a tower.

The Chaktawe was seemingly very proud of his legs, being the hosts of the bigger and strongest muscles of the human body. This fact was even truer in his case, as his leg workouts were closer to torture than healthy exercise. Khemkhaengawut held himself risen with a single arm planted on the pool’s floor, which was a very impressive display of strength by itself. His legs extended the most they were able in a perfect shape of a rising tower that emerged from the waters. The muscles were, of course, flexed as much as possible, with the added bonus of all the fat being dragged downwards by the gravity which allowed for even more definition. The water level was just below his waist, a detail carefully planned so that his manhood and delicious glutes were displayed for all. Truthfully the stance wasn’t as acrobatic as it seemed, as the water offered great help in stability and even decreased the strength needed to rise himself in said posture. Everything else was simple balance he had to learn in order to work out without his arm.


Still, this was not the end. The Chaktawe now began hopping on his arm and slowly began spinning in place so that he could thoroughly enlighten every set of eyes of his perfection. The lukewarm waters had aided in relaxing his manhood, which now flailed freely following the man’s body. He performed six total spins, until his groin was halted in the Akalak’s direction for him to witness, and with his last ticks of held breath he’d stir his hips so that he could clearly signify the Akalak to rub his tears with it. Falling back down, the Chaktawe came out with a huge gasp, yet also with a wide smile that clearly stated his victory and overgrown pride. “Stronger and more attractive than you despite having one arm. Walk on home, boy! HA!”

[Imass]

Imass watched in disgust as his competition flailed his manhood around ungracefully. Folding his arms, the blue-man brooded over the man's muscular volume. Comparatively he couldn't match up and currently there was no explaining the situation that lead to his physical decline. The only thing that brought any ease to his mind was his own martial confidence. Despite his malnourished state of being, fighting was his forte. The tattooed man also had a way with words that really pissed Imass off; his signature egotistical laugh really annoyed the Knight.

"Better be careful with your words, fool, I'll have you eating them soon," Imass said with forced calmness. The competition was not over yet, he would never give up and look stupid in front of the females. Ambling casually to the stone wall near where the women where sitting, the blue-man decided to do his next trick right next to them. Smiling, he nodded at the one he liked the best.

Placing both hands on the floor, he pushed off his feet to do a handstand against the wall. The first attempt was a failure, but the second time he held the form. Despite being out of practice, Imass pushed his doubts aside and began to do wall push-ups. Controlling his breathing and tightening all his muscles, the Knight did over ten reps, his manhood hanging on his abdomen. On the eleventh rep, the blue man gracefully failed, coming down off the wall in one fluid motion.

"See that ladies?" Imass addressed their judges for the first time, "I don't need a pool to do a handstand,"

[Khemkhaengawut]

Khemkhaengawut could only grin at the Akalak, seeing how he slowly despaired the more he attempted to compete with this trained beast. The scarce food found in Nyka was an issue, of course, yet under the gazes of the females the Chaktawe could perform miracles. It was an infusion of testosterone only perceived once the naked female figures were spotted, and the sensual curves moving and stirring were amongst the things he loved most in the world. Hammer some steel all day and coming home to mount a woman was his ideal day, and despite not having a job yet, he would still get the woman. He offered no comment to the Akalak, and merely limited himself to moving onward towards the Akalak’s shore as he watched his attempts of impressing... well, anyone really. The Chaktawe just couldn’t imagine losing to this fellow.

Soon, he found himself chuckling at the copycat. He was doing the same exercise he did! Even the females would realize that, as they weren’t as stupid as the Akalak was. A simple flex would have been enough to finish the job, if Khemkhaengawut didn’t just witness something alarming. The Akalak was a genius, in fact. His multiple repetitions brought onward some vascularity in his shoulders, which in his mind made of muscle was directly associated with manliness. Vascularity equals blood, and blood equals manliness. He could allow this to continue, yet he also couldn’t just walk up to the Akalak and kick him. No… he would be denied the right of claiming the throne, and so he had to improvise.

Looking around as he pondered hastily, he was looking for any ideas of exercises to perform. He couldn’t just perform something easy or unimpressive, as that would have been defeat no matter how much vascularity it brought. At first, he considered just laying down on the floor and performing a one handed and one legged pushup, an extraordinary exercise he was basically forced to learn due to his missing limb. Getting on the floor, however, was out of the question. Even if the exercise was surely out of the reach of the Akalak, it would also imply bowing down before him as he would stand lower than the male. Thus, the idea was discarded. The second ideas was to walk up to the bench and trying to deadlift it off the ground, something possible yet very unlikely as the Chaktawe didn’t know if they were bolted into the ground or how he would hold the bench in a practical manner.

The third idea, however, seemed the only choice left. Walking up to one of the multiple pillars that surrounded the pool, Khemkhaengawut would ungracefully climb on top of the small bases that supported the pillars. Climbing with only one hand was very hard, and he couldn’t quite do anything to add more aesthetic to his motions. Nevertheless, after some squirming and twisting, he managed to climb on top. Finally, he stood up and reached over to the strange metal torch holders that stood right above him, and thanks to his large height he was able to firmly grab it. Making sure to turn towards the direction of the Akalak, he would stiffen his core and extend his legs for stability as he began performing one handed pull-ups. The exercise was brutally effective to bringing out his back and swelling his bicep, and was even a bigger feat to be accomplished by someone as heavy as himself. Making sure to display a rather forced smile due to the effort, his laterals only managed to bring him up five times before he knew the next repetition would not display acceptable form.

He could have squeezed double that number, but he didn’t want to give the females the impression that he could be worn out by the exercise. He preferred to show himself dominant and invincible, something he’d make sure to tell the Akalak once he settled back down on the pillar’s base. Assuming an extremely proud and confident posture, higher than anyone else in the pool, he had crowned himself king as he was the one to stand highest. “Good job, goof. You only need a wall to support your lack of dedication. On the other hand, I am a wall! HA!” Now, it was a good moment to raise his arm and display the vascularity in his bicep, which had brought out veins of different thickness that gave his red flesh the appearance of a veiny leaf.

[Imass]

Imass watched on with folded arms as the tattooed gimp began to climb one of the pillars in the bath house. Hoisting himself up with one arm and performing one armed pull-ups would be difficult to compete with. Once his set was done, his sweltering muscles were a sight to behold for the ladies. Taking a mocking stance on the base of the pillar and questioning Imass' dedication made the blue-man quiver in rage. He took this slight personally and was quick to anger in this situation.

The Knight's fists curled up into meaty bricks and he bared his broken teeth, "Get down from there craven!" The blue-man's body began to shake, his mind flashed red and his pupils narrowed. Who is he to question your dedication? Garonn whispered to antagonize his zealot brother, knowing that dedication was a deeply sore point for him. Imass show this man what we've dedicated our life to, remember your Honor brother!

"I challenge you to a fist fight on the grounds of your slanderous words against me!" The Akalak boomed, pointing at Khemkhaengawut. He completely forgot the women, their nudity, and the bath house. He did not think of the consequences of a fight in such a location either. The whole entire competition had frustrated the blue-man and he planned on pushing the issue until the end, even if it meant bruises. So caught up in his anger, Imass did not notice anything else going on around him.

[Khemkhaengawut]

Much like the Akalak, the Chaktawe too forgot the meaning of this competition. Initially, he was in to find a woman to enjoy, yet now he was simply enjoying the victory. Boisterous and arrogant he would begin flexing without much interest, laughing out loud as annoyingly as one could imagine. The laugh itself was as humiliating as a kick to the face, proper of a madman crazed by power. His power, however, only extended to his muscles. He wasn’t a fighter, not at all, despite the multiple brawls his actions usually spawn. Looking down at the Akalak as a king watches the commonwealth, he would use his only hand to perform a commanding and extremely arrogant dismiss. “Sorry, I don’t talk to losers! HA!” Khemkhaengawut had clearly lost his mind to the blood that traveled through his muscles, and surely revealed his obsession with probing himself better than everyone else.

Following a quick succession of poses in which the man would brag about his accomplishments, he didn’t seem to wish to leave the high vantage point that crowned him king. No matter how interested the females showed themselves, the very few that remained that is, he didn’t seem to pay them no heed. Even the females realized after a while that their efforts would be in vain, as the Chaktawe would rather sleep with himself or his reflection in a mirror than with any of them. Thus, their interest began to wane and they began leaving one by one. They either returned to the pool whilst promising themselves to ignore the rude male, or instead leave the bath house completely swearing revenge on said boor. “Who’s the best, huh!? I am! Who’s the strongest!? I am! HA!” He yelled out, already claiming negative attention from the management.

Truthfully, he was slightly afraid to look down. Never had he claimed something, and now that he was so high in the pillar he questioned himself how would he go back down. His missing limb would not ease his descent, and jumping down into the pool was as stupid as it was risky. He would have went down the same way he climbed even if he had to land on his face, yet the Akalak didn’t seem to wish to leave without conflict. Falling before him was completely out of the question – he didn’t deserve a chance to retaliate, not after losing so humiliatingly. Finally, the Chaktawe decided on what to do. Sometimes, the best move is not to move, and thus he would remain in place enjoying his victory. “Easy victory! Nobody can compete against the Man of Peace! HA!” He made sure to send a kiss to the Akalak that watched from below, teasing him and taunting him to sugarcoat his own swollen ego.

[Imass]

"You are a coward! Get down here!" Imass yelled in vain.

The patrons of the Bath House slowly started to disperse at the display of Khemkhaengawut on his pedestal. The women were all gone now and the nearby men began to leave from the headache the tattooed man was causing. The once serene atmosphere was now completely ruined. The Akalak stood angrily at the bottom of the pillar, dumbfounded at the antics of the man. Deep down he knew that management would be kicking them out soon, but Imass wanted to get at least one good hit on the Chaktawe.

Being blown a kiss from a hated male was the last straw though, the blue-man couldn't control himself anymore. Violently grabbing a thirty five pound stone vase at the base of the pillar, Imass raised it over and behind his head. Stretching at full extension, stepping into his throw, and putting his hips behind him, the Knight used all the kinetic energy he could muster in the attack.

"HIYYAAAAAAH!" Flowers and all, the improvised projectile flew towards Khemkhaengawut's chest at a tremendous speed.