[ Straighten your back. ] She stood tall, rigid, her muscles tensed & poised.
[ Center your gaze. ] Those austere blue eyes never wavered, sharp and angled into the mirror before her. She looked at herself, with her modest clothes and featureless expression, and she allowed no vanity - yet felt a pang while she fully perceived the girl staring back at her.
[ Square your shoulders. ] She was the picture of the perfect soldier in every way that mattered in her appearance; at this state of complete attention she looked ready for anything or anyone that was thrown her way, each order carried out with a resounding degree of obedience and dedication. She saw that intensity in her own eyes, the only thing that burned within her.
When did her room get so cold? Was that just her chest?
[ Take your stance. ] A simple shift of her foot, re-balancing her weight without disturbing the previous instructions followed. One arm remained lingering at her side, taut fingers stretched towards her tool pack without entering its folds; the other, lifted in a mock strike of her palm, slanted in the direction of her bat as if wary of an immediate counterattack.
[ Dodge. ] She jumped back, skipping on her heel to skid to a halt with a graceful twist of her body no more than a few feet from the display. A sweeping motion, grand but with a stark efficiency, led to a kunai grasped in one set of fingers and The World in the other.
[ Respond. ] She swept herself forward, striking at the air with an impregnated silence that stretched on longer with each soundless action. Not even the thwack or swing of her weaponry made a noise, splitting the immediate atmosphere with conservative and precise movements.
[ Repeat. ] So she did, again and again, and this process stretched itself out along the entirety of her day off. No parents to please, no friends to entertain ... she had this and only this, these quiet stretches within her private spaces spent vigorously until she gleamed with sweat and exhaustion.
Just so she could continue once more.
[ MFT 2/4 - 2/11
348 WC ]
[ Center your gaze. ] Those austere blue eyes never wavered, sharp and angled into the mirror before her. She looked at herself, with her modest clothes and featureless expression, and she allowed no vanity - yet felt a pang while she fully perceived the girl staring back at her.
[ Square your shoulders. ] She was the picture of the perfect soldier in every way that mattered in her appearance; at this state of complete attention she looked ready for anything or anyone that was thrown her way, each order carried out with a resounding degree of obedience and dedication. She saw that intensity in her own eyes, the only thing that burned within her.
When did her room get so cold? Was that just her chest?
[ Take your stance. ] A simple shift of her foot, re-balancing her weight without disturbing the previous instructions followed. One arm remained lingering at her side, taut fingers stretched towards her tool pack without entering its folds; the other, lifted in a mock strike of her palm, slanted in the direction of her bat as if wary of an immediate counterattack.
[ Dodge. ] She jumped back, skipping on her heel to skid to a halt with a graceful twist of her body no more than a few feet from the display. A sweeping motion, grand but with a stark efficiency, led to a kunai grasped in one set of fingers and The World in the other.
[ Respond. ] She swept herself forward, striking at the air with an impregnated silence that stretched on longer with each soundless action. Not even the thwack or swing of her weaponry made a noise, splitting the immediate atmosphere with conservative and precise movements.
[ Repeat. ] So she did, again and again, and this process stretched itself out along the entirety of her day off. No parents to please, no friends to entertain ... she had this and only this, these quiet stretches within her private spaces spent vigorously until she gleamed with sweat and exhaustion.
Just so she could continue once more.
[ MFT 2/4 - 2/11
348 WC ]