{♕} — Quiescence manufactures a false sense of security in a a tenacious and indefinite world comprised and spurred by transient peace. Few comprehend the reality that war, whether on a continental or global scale, is never a matter of ‘if’ but rather a question of ‘when’. Always it looms, out of sight and out of mind, but present. Does their success against Ragyo and the Fibers produce an everlasting state of placidity? Of course not — and although she aims to enjoy what time they’ve earned, she pursues a life of normalcy only in part. This lofty state is but ad interim.
There are no more generals, yet she’ll not be ill-prepared should they be needed once more.
Now wielding only a Kendo Stick, the CEO of REVOCS practices form and discipline. A foot slides out, posture perfect as she envisions the enemy before her. That foot continues, ending where it shall meat her opponent’s. Her hand drifts low to the hilt of her kendo, prepared to draw. “HA!” A warcry coming only after she’s drawn the weapon with ferocious velocity, striking at air with incredible precision. Just as she seeks to bring the weapon down upon a debilitating pressure point, she pauses.
There’s a presence lingering near — it can be tasted in the air. They’ve been observing for some time, now, though she’s only just realized. Perhaps her skill is growing a bit thin.
“Come out.”
█{{✰}}██ So she did, she listened just as she was requested or rather demanded to come out of her ‘hiding spot’ in any case. She only was drawn there by the sounds, the sound of fighting that filled her ear drums as much as it was just practice at this point. The shooter was nothing different, she can be just as dangerous as anyone else no matter how much she tried to enjoy a life of peace now that she had entered this world. Warriors were not hard to come by, blood thirsty and all wanting to remove any form of obstacles from place given the circumstances. The strong overcame the weak, the weak were meant to die and that was all which ruled the desolate wasteland that birthed her existence.
They carried burdens of pain from those they were attached to, those that needed them and were apart of them at this point. One human and them? They were simply their souls in a sense if one wished to think of it in a poetic view point yet now is not the time to think of this. This young lady may want a battle, a fight, whatever she craves at this point with such things straying from mind.
There’s always a risk to this unfortunately if she were made into the target.
A risk that one couldn’t help given she unfortunately held something within her, corruption at it’s finest point and stagnation that can grow at any time with fear being a cause. Fear, memories, anything to drag it out of them. “…” She’d need to speak, won’t she? Perhaps given that she didn’t know what exactly to do about it.
Hopefully she wouldn’t mind that… she didn’t exactly do well with conversation.
