Weights before dates [PV Helen] - London Quidditch Stadium

23 May 2026, 16:33

T H E- A R J A N- O B E R O I

Private to @Helen Aletheia Doukas-----------------------27th December 2025

There was no rest for the wicked. Whilst there were no matches happened on Christmas day itself, athletes were expected to play games throughout the holidays. This was because most people got a break during those times and so, stadiums sold more tickets and people tuned into the radio to listen. The viewership always went up on holidays.

As such, The Arjan Oberoi was busy training. He had a match yesterday and another one tomorrow. Today, however, he had off. And like every day that he had off, he did the most important thing he could do that day - go to the gym.

Not just any gym, Arjan headed to the magical gym near the London Quidditch Stadium. It was great for any magical beings as it allowed them to not only train their body like in a regular gym, but also to practice flying or use magic to help improve their training. The famous (well he liked to think so) athlete was wearing a plain white vest and pair of grey sweatpants today and currently training in one of the magical cages that they had, waving his wand around aggressively.

The sweat trickled down his forehead. In front of him were several moving targets. As he waved his wand, he would mutter a 'flipendo' at as many targets as he could. It was trickier than it looked, requiring both control in casting and accuracy. You were also expected to run around the maze like creation, searching or finding these targets.

Arjan broke into a sprint down another corridor of the maze, up some stairs that he was pretty sure weren't there five minutes ago and ducked out of the way of incoming fireballs. Then raising his wand, he cast "Flipendo!", watching the spell split into two and fly towards two different targets that had appeared out of nowhere. One was at the end of the corridor, the other was above him.

Just before he hit them, he heard a buzzing sound that indicated the time was up. Groaning as he knew they would not count towards the total he had hit, he made his way back out, grabbed a fresh towel and wiped his face, throwing it into a basket for dirty towels. He was reading his results as he caught his breathe, miffed at his performance. It should have been at least two higher, he knew that. He needed to be quicker. It was not enough. Not yet. He was not done yet.

Without raising his eyes from the parchment that held his results - an analysis of his performance with the times between each target, the accuracy, the speed or difficulty etc - he reached out for one of the water bottles on the side from the table. As he did, he fingers brushed against another person's, which suddenly caught his attention and made him raise his gaze to see a beautiful woman nearby, "Oh, sorry, please," He managed to get out as he motioned to let her take the water bottle he was reaching for, moving for another. He opened it and immediately downed the water, "Hi, I haven't seen you around here before," He continued after lowering his own bottle with his signature smirk on his face as he eyed her up.

Helen Aletheia Doukas

Librarian, II

252 83

30 May 2026, 18:56

xxxxx

───────

xxxxxxxx

WEIGHTS BEFORE DATES.

xxxxx

date ; 27 december, 2025
interacting with ; @arjan oberoi

magical gym ; london quidditch stadium ; location
tank top, shorts, sneakers ; outfit

XXXXX𝕲oing to the gym was, to Helen, a pastime of much value. As a child, she never had much physical strength, making her vulnerable to those who wished to inflict harm upon her. Only her charm and wit surpassed this by far, but when in the battlefield, charming the opponent is hardly a reliable method of warfare. Isaac Asimov once wrote that „violence is the last refuge of the incompetent”. But then, what if it is the only refuge? The only way to defend oneself from the cruelty in today’s world?

Vulnerability was a trait Helen had always wished to scrap from her persona completely, after the trauma from her youth and what was left. As young as a Durmstrang graduate, she was first introduced to the concept of working out and becoming physically stronger. Deadlier. It served as stress relief one could say, a way to put her neverending thoughts on pause and only think of the next blow. A fist against leather, or palms grinding against the cool metal as her arms moved rhythmically towards the firmament and down once more. No thinking, but merely doing. Building strength, stamina, durability. Helen may not win in a fight, but she was not the child she once was, with hardly any muscle on her bones.

It gave the part-veela a sense of tranquility to know that every day spent at the gym her vulnerability decreased just a bit more, despite lacking the time and mentality to make this a true commitment. For after all, scars cannot be mended, however much one may try to do so. The life she had created for herself was a vacation to the blind eye, but if one dug deeper, it was an escape from her past, and a prevention of that same cycle of events occurring once again.

What she did not realize at first, was that the human body has limits. It signals not only the triggering of emotions or tiredness from lack of sleep, but also the amount of stamina it has left when doing a difficult work out. When first starting to go to the gym, Helen would push herself until she collapsed onto the floor, not realizing she had gone far past her ability at the time. The lower her stamina, the less thoughts and flashbacks invaded her mind, she reasoned. It made sense to her, but this logic derived from ignorance, unawareness and impetuosity. Only after a conversation with someone far more skilled than she in that field did she learn that lesson, and even then did she struggle to realize on time that she needed a drink.

Now, the woman found herself momentarily residing in London, the Christmas holidays in full swing. The city was a place she remembered well from her youth, and had been much easier to return to than many other places would. At that very moment, she found herself training in a magical gym near the London Quidditch Stadium, a place that was somehow concealed from all muggles and that she had not visited as a young girl, later Hogwarts (and later still Durmstrang) attendee. Upon entrance, the woman had found that there were not only muggle attributes but also sectors that allowed for wizards to hone their skills as well. Despite the array of so many different options, Helen chose to begin with what she knew best, a run to warm up and then a few rounds of boxing and weights.

As she began, the noises around her seemed to dissipate, only her own steps sounding in her ears, until the timer she had set went off and the bubble she had created around herself and the piste popped. Next came boxing. Each hit against the bag in front of her decided, as if pouring all her hate and fear into her gloves, the blows in tempo, until her timer went once more. Water was overrated– or maybe she simply forgot that dehydration is a very real concept, as she continued without rest to the weights. A new cadence, serenity bestowed upon her mind once more, her muscles doing all the work.

The timer went again, and that was when she realized.

Drink, Helen. Drink.

Her body was hot, but she was still alright. Ignorance is bliss until reality hits. Brushing a bead of sweat off her forehead, the woman walked slowly to the front of the gym once more to take a well-deserved break.

Just as she reached for a water-bottle, a hand brushed against hers, before noticing and raising his gaze from whatever sheet of paper had previously captured his attention. "Oh, sorry, please," the male then said, before downing a different bottle then and there. "Oh– thank you." Before taking a closer look at the young adult, Helen took a bottle herself, and took a few long swigs. "Hi, I haven't seen you around here before," he then said with a smirk. Scanning his visage, it seemed he had graduated only a few years prior, his hair jet-black and eyes the color hazel, and judging by his comment, he came here often.

"I’m Helen, it’s my first time coming here, actually. You must live nearby?"

Taking a furtive glance at the paper beside him that he had been so absorbed in, it became apparent to the part-veela that he had been working on his magical abilities– was he a duellist, perhaps? A far-fetched thought then came to her. "Do you duel?" At that moment, Helen was no older than fifteen once more, in the Durmstrang duelling team, convincing a peer to face her on the piste. It’s funny how time seems to bend so easily, a spark of the fun from her youth causing her lips to form a smile. When thinking of her teenage years, she looked past so many good memories, she realized. Maybe, just maybe, going back in time for a day wouldn’t be so bad.

A smirk laced her visage.

"And if so, might I be a worthy opponent?"

────────────xxxxx veela ; greek ; russian | oooo | french ; english ; finnish xxxxx ────────────

ooc notes ; am not planning on using any deadlines for the duel, but let's keep pre-graduation stats!
stats ; [ sta. 11 ] [ eva. 12 ] [ acc. 12 ] [ str. 02 ] [ wis. 20 ] [ arc. 08 ]

𝓪 𝓻𝓸𝓼𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓹𝓼 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓮.

abilities ; [1.] comprehend veela, alluring | [2.] ability | [3.] scream | [4.] ability | [5.] charm | [6.] ability | [7.] temperamental

❀ Of course I feel too much, I'm a universe of exploding stars ❥
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Arjan Oberoi

League One Athlete, III

100 13

31 May 2026, 16:36

T H E- A R J A N- O B E R O I

Interacting with @Helen Aletheia Douka

He took a moment - or a few - to appreciate the woman standing near him. She was stunning, there was no doubt. Almost alluring. Of course, so was he. Helen. Arjan did not pay that much attention to studies but one thing he did know was Helen of Troy, said to be perhaps the most beautiful woman in the world. The Trojans, the Spartans, those kinds of cultures were also particularly fascinating to him as he thought he would have excelled in that era. No one would have beaten him in a fight, surely. He would have ruled as king - and having a beauty as Helen on his arm wouldn't hurt. "Helen, the name of a face who could launch a thousand ships. It suits you perfectly," He responded as he raised his hand to take hers. If she allowed it, he would place a kiss on the top of her hand in a greeting. "Arjan Oberoi," He continued, even know he was confident that she would recognise him by the many posters and magazine cut outs that must have been on her bedroom wall.

"Sort of. I mostly live abroad but I do have a place nearby," He replied as though it was normal to have multiple residences before the age of twenty. Realistically though, he did spend most of his time not at home. Instead, he was usually training or out trying to work on his publicity. He did not bother to add that he worked nearby, which still made this one of the local gyms, as she obviously would have recognised his professional athlete status from his handsome face that she would have known, or even from his physique.

His eyebrow perked up a bit at the next question. Of course he duelled. If duelling meant fighting people - which it totally did. "Of course," He responded before hearing the next part of her question. She wanted to fight?

The Arjan Oberoi might have enjoyed a good fistfight as much as the next person but even he had no intentions of hitting a beautiful woman! Hitting on, sure, but not physically hitting! Wait- maybe she meant magical. That would make more sense. He smirked a little seeing the expression on her face. She seemed excited about the idea, he could not say no. With a nod, "I see the name does indeed suit you perfectly," He chuckled softly, "If it means I get to spend more time in your presence, of course. But don't blame me if I go easy on you," He continued, giving him an excuse for not actually hurting her.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his spellcasting kind of sucked, nope, not at all. It was one hundred percent, totally, entirely, because he did not want to hurt a beauty. Yes. That was it. Totally.

"I think we should be able to find a room over there for it, or outside," He continued as he motioned in two different directions, offering her a choice of location. It was warm enough to take this outside but the gym did also have rooms that could be used for things like this. He often practiced his spellcasting at targets there - though usually they were practice dummies whilst he was on a broomstick. This would be a first for him though.

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