Preparing for a.. challenging... evening.

[DoS Archive]

From: perrinis@aol.com (Perrinis)
Date: 14 Feb 1998 03:27:13 EST

Time passed like quicksilver during a good workout. With documents, bills and the hum-drum of national stewardship taken care of for the day, a certain young General opted to pass a few hours in his personal gym.

As the sun set over the Garrison Territory, a former emporer's fists struck against sand-filled canvas in rapid succession and drilled precision. 184--185--186--an LED display clicked off each impact on the much-abused bag until the long-time sailor of archaic triemes and cutting-edge speedboats alike fatigued to the point of stopping.
186 punches in about 200 seconds... not good enough. The student of Seers and Oracles wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of a tape-wrapped hand. It wasn't that he was out of shape, his physical condition was nothing short of remarkable... it wasn't a matter of growing tired too quickly, his diet and fiercely demanding regimen saw to the insurance of his stamina... what is was, was that we was distracted.
The once-myrmidon stepped back from the bag, shaking his head, inhaling deeply. Where to begin? Recent memories were best. Just trying to talk with Drake was being an ardous labor. His recollection of their "custody dispute"--soured and escalated by Ariah, the meddling patron deity of his ex-wife; and the ever-present Ares, of course. The slight smell of blood and angry memories tinged the War God's off-times pawn's perception from that night, at
the awkwardest moments. Why, his once good friend Buffy Winters had turned so sour in his eyes, that it was not calculated skill but earnest rage at her association with Drakewyn that won his duel against her in the opening of the Tourney.
The all-too-misunderstood Dictator of the Garrison Territory leaned against the stale, sterile steel wall behind him, slowly catching his breath as his thoughts labored on. Why had Serrah returned from the grave, from Hades and from his distant past to haunt him like this now? Yes, he loved her dearly once. But "once" was a time when he had yet to know the value of peace, on and off the fields of politics and war. With a sigh, he grappled with the
visage of her watching him in the Arena, which luckily was the only place she crossed his path.
She blended in with all his other troubles there, so much the better.

Many a man will tell a troubled soul, that in the face of adversity, to hold one's comforts all the closer. Thus, the cuckolded and betrayed husband pulled his thoughts away from that past, looking instead to, well, the angels in his life. The delighted squeals and giggles that were Delilah's played and replayed in his mind as he thought of her: His strongest link to the past for good or ill, and his truest and most precious link to the future--a
future of joys that would outshine any mere pain, if his cherubic daughter was any indication.
And he had a new angel now too, this one coming in a more literal package. She called him "sweetheart," and thinking of her fond attentions brought warmth to the single father's countenence.
Suddenly, with the blink of two eyes and the spark of inspiration, the General Perrinis Alabaster put everything on hold, stepping from his gym to get his angels proper valentines.