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Post by MATHILDE - SAHU PRIME on Jun 4, 2017 9:20:36 GMT
Return when you know your way around a sword.
Why? Why would she use a sword, and harm others? While her work was completely based around healing others? Why did she have a batch of new and available emotions to her each hour, yet she was told to fight, rather than do than what she was made to do. Curing and healing. She had already killed once. And to this day, she still felt sickened by it. A deep ball of self hatred, seething within her. Yet here she was. Alone in the mountains, the sheen of a nameless asauchi glinting in the early morning sun. The leather crackled softly as her grip tightened on the hilt. She wasn't programmed for this.
A deep breath.
She moved forward with a diagonal slice. Counting her own footsteps whilst she carved another upwards arc, before a sidewards slice. And once again, she took the equal amount of steps back as she had taken. And repeating said movement. She even lacked a sore basis for sword fighting, hand to hand combat and anything concerned. But it was true, when she was in a fight where she needed to protect the ones unable to properly protect themselves. She had to grow stronger.
MATHILDE - SAHU PRIME © All rights reserved, 2015-2016.
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Post by MATHILDE - SAHU PRIME on Jun 4, 2017 9:31:46 GMT
A trickle of sweat ensued, another laboured breath as she once again forced herself to jump back into stance and follow the same movements she had been repeating for the umpteenth time now. She lost count. And all she knew was that she was getting tired. Her muscles cramped and her legs started to get sore. Mayhaps high heels weren't the best in combat practice. But she wore those all the time, so she better just get used to it. She wouldn't change anything to her body just yet. It was holy, sanctified. The self preservation being something she was taught very early on in development.
She huffed out another breath, shaking her head. Unnecessary thoughts and distractions at this point. Right now, she made herself train and work out. Though she had no idea she could be exhausted to this extent. Her core systems were expending too much energy? She lowered the blade again. Really, she believed her body to be holy. But given how versatile it was regarding a mortal's body, she could tinker on it. Provided she had a suitable alternative when doing so. She'd have to increase her energy output and efficiency if she was to enter any kind of real combat. She was exhausted way too quick.
MATHILDE - SAHU PRIME © All rights reserved, 2015-2016.
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Post by MATHILDE - SAHU PRIME on Jun 4, 2017 9:46:44 GMT
She paid it no mind. Maybe just training would increase her capabilities and efficiency? She studied humans and shinigami alike. They had to train, work out to keep their body in a good health. She, however, was an artificial being. Her body's structure and make up were quite similair to a human's, disregarding any reproductive organs, naturally.
She shook her head. No, procrastination would lead nowhere. She needed to be stronger, that was the end of that. And all she could do to become just that was nothing but sweat and hard work. Blood sweat and tears. Although she was sure normal humans didn't have radiant blue blood.
Another sharp exhale. Back straight, katana in hands. Shoulders set. And once again, the same flurry of slices she had been practicing religiously before. She had to start somewhere. And just practice to get used to the weight of a weapon. It was surprisingly light, considering the weight of dreams and hopes cut down with it. Just a sharp edge, yet so many ways of killing one another. Mankind was cruel, given they spent so much time in more ways to destroy eachother and get out on top. And here came the same thoughts again, ones she desperately tried to push to the back of her mind.
MATHILDE - SAHU PRIME © All rights reserved, 2015-2016.
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Post by MATHILDE - SAHU PRIME on Jun 4, 2017 10:17:45 GMT
Again, she scolded herself. Forcing her arms to move. Attaining stance once more. Back straight, katana in both hands infront. Her form was slumped now, as a soft, rhythmic panting emanated from her. She wasn't used to this strain at all. A supporting and a healing unit. Not a character created for combat, honestly. Though she even came to realize her strikes were more precise, two hours in already. Having done those same movements umpteenth squared times by now. A bitter scowl crawled on her face as she once again returned to the same pose. Discipline, she reminded herself. Again, she once more thought to herself. Setting a foot forward once more, aiming once again the same flurry of strikes at none in particular.
Once again rehearsing the movements like she was practicing a dance. Which in and of itself was true. It was a dance, the dance of death. She took another deep breath. These thoughts were intrusive and distracting at best. Daunting and irritating at worst. And she once more made a point of pushing them to the back of her mind and focus on the task at hand, slaving her body away to become stronger and stand a fighting chance. Not all sides let a medic to their work undisturbed, after all.
MATHILDE - SAHU PRIME © All rights reserved, 2015-2016.
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