Here it is, finally!!! Hope you enjoy!!
[11th] Week 99: Mynar Zibrinski
Contact Info: Trigger82788
Email: zypher2788@yahoo.com
Name (English Format): Mynar Elissa Zibrinski (My-Nar E-Liss-a Zee-bring-ski)
Age: Looks 32, actually about 79 from birth.
Persona: As far away from conformist as one can get, Mynar lives and breathes individuality. Everything from her stark blue hair to her ruby red eyes screams "I am different and proud!!" Growing up under constant teasing can either make someone accept their characteristics or reject them entirely. Mynar borders on flaunting her differences to everyone, going as far as to try and stick out like a sore thumb in a crowd.
She always treats people like she thinks they need to be treated. If they are nice and conciderate, she will return the pleasentries. If they are rude and obnoxious, she will treat them the same way. Rank and stature have no bearing on this, and she frequently gets in trouble for mouthing of to a higher ranking officer.
She wasn't one to worry during life and that was one of the major things she retained as she moved into Soul society. Taking the notion that everything would work itself out in time has not fallen on deaf ears with her, as letting her relax where others would be strung out and stressed beyond belief is a very endaring qulaity she posseses. Many people think her lazy, but none can say that anything asked of her was never done; it's just done at such a pace that no one notices. She often practices Tai Chi, a favorite in her life before this, as it calms and relaxes her even further.
However, this seemingly calm exterior houses a typhoon of a temper. An extremely short fuse accompanies excellent verbal jousting skills, as well as an unrelenting sense of justice. If she feels something is wrong, she will flat out tell you. No beating around the bush, instead, a blunt honesty will be thrown your way and most of the time, no one expects it. She speaks her mind freely, mostly ignoring commonly accepted traditions and social rules in favor of being heard. Most people listen better when in a state of shock...
Physical Stature: Many men have described her as one hell of a woman. Standing at 6'2" , her stature was more then enough to discourage many players and hustler to stay away from her. Her natural blue hair is situated in Dreadlocks that, when they are in a bun, reach down to the bottom of her shoulders. Her face is distinctly Slavic, the pronounced jaw line and low eyebrows complimenting her athletic build and height. But the most noticeable feature of her face are her ruby red eyes. Again, natural red is a rare color, let alone blue hair, but it happened to her, both genetic defects passed onto her by her parents.
Her neon blue hair brings attention to her soft features; thin eyebrows and a small nose simply draw even more attention to her ruby red eyes. One of the more outstanding features she has is her eyes' betrayal of her emotions. Anything she feels, the 'fires of her soul' react in her eyes. Burning with passion, raging with anger, or timid with anxiousness, her eyes tell all.
After years of playing lacrosse and racquetball, as well as Tai Chi, her body is in good condition, but her second job as a handywoman left her toned with muscles that aren't caused by workouts or weights, but from natural work and hard labor. Her arms are not overly large, but show off her defined athleticism. Legs, long and muscular, somehow end up being largely feminine on her, starching out her frame, and adding more curves to her body.
And curves she has. Wide hips and a fairly large chest given to her as a present from God has gotten her into more than one Rave without paying, but she never really takes advantage of their wiles on men (and some women), simply content to be blessed.
As part of the underground culture before her death, she was always a little on the edgier side, surprising people by dressing in ways that no one would expect. But her greatest leap was when she decided on a tattoo for herself. Thinking it the ultimate expression of individuality (short of pricings), she let herself go under the needle to get it. The result of about 2 days worth of work was a large tribal tattoo that covers her back, one little extension sprouting down her right arm, twisting around it until it reaches the back of her hand, ending in a small curve.
Her uniform is a bit different too. The simple black uniform and white belt she was given made her fit in, even with her hair. After a few weeks of this, Mynar had enough. She snuck out one night, used the small amount of money she had to buy yards of shiny white cloth and a black ribbon. She spent that next week hand stitching a new uniform for herself, staying up all night, every night, to finish it. Exhausted, but proud, she wore the new uniform to class the next week. It was a pure white Chinese style kimono, the turtle-neck holding her front up. Right under the collar was cut off at the back, and the entire dress was backless, showing off her impressive tattoo. The kimono was styled to be a halter top, exposing her arms and back, but not being too whorish. The top ties at her waist, running into a large samurai style trouser covering her legs. The black ribbon serves as her belt. Sure...she had to do 1000 extra knuckle push-ups every time she wore it (which was everyday), but after doing that, her instructors never said a word about it.
Division and Seat: 11th Division, any seat.
Zanpakutou: Her sword is a larger version on a Bolo Knife, a machete type weapon, originating in the Philippines. The straight bladed weapons features a downward pointing edge and a two handed grip forcing the wielder to hold it upwards and to the side, blade facing out. The blade is made out of jet black onyx, slightly lighter around where it is sharpened. The hilt is a simple extension of the blade, but the grip is made out of small rope, twisted around the extension until the desired grip is made. A small rope tail falls off of the back with a small spherical weight on the end.
Biography: (As read from the diary of Mynar's best friend in the academy, Toshi Matmesu)
Mynar's a tough nut to crack, Diary. No matter how hard I try, she just won't tell me anything about her life before...well death. She's only given me enough to get to know her....no details, no personal feelings, nothing. This is what i got so far...
She was born in Russia to a low income family some where in the city Omsk, close to the Irtysh River on the southern end, right before Kazakhstan. They never really had the money to do anything, but her parents loved her the same. Enrolling her in the closest public school was easy, as by this point, education was more institutionalized. She did okay, her grades were average and nothing really outstanding occurred. Untill she got an opportunity in high school to travel to Japan for a semester. She snatched it up, taking advantage of the scholarships they offered her because she was part of a poor family.
She said the experience was amazing. She loved the Japanese language and picked it up quickly. Her foster family saw that she had a gift with languages, and encoraged her to study harder than she thought possible to get into a nice college. She agreed to study in Japan for a degree in language, and with permission from her parents, she lived with the foster family for 4 more years, picking up english, spanish, and Chinese reather quickly. At a job fair at the small community college, a small time recruiter recognized her ability and got in contact with a UN executive for her, asking for a Job.
This started a very successful carrer as a translator in the UN. She even got to bump shoulders with the big wigs and even influenced a very large bill that got passed because of some very fancy wordwork by her. She won't talk about that one, as she is still bound by her word never to speak of it....even though she is dead...she is strange, diary.
Now, she had started to venture to several locations as part of her job and recognized the various diffrences between the cities, but one thing was the same. The underground culture of Raves, dance parties, clubs...all of them enticing and strangely alluring to her. She did a little research to see what to expect, and found out that she loved the things it stood for. She dove deep in, getting involed in rave, meeting with the dj's on several occasions, and even becoming the co-ordinator for a large scale party right under the cop's noses.
That's when she decided on the tattoo and her style of dress. Since then, she has let her work speak for her instead of her dress, surprising many an ambassador by her personal flair, but proving more than adept at negotiations and lingusitcs, more often than not winning over the ambassadors. She loved her job.
But a random shove in a subway heading home one night left her high and dry, and in Soul society. She was 32, her 33rd birthday the very next day. She is still battling to this day over things she left behind and things left unsaid to those she loved. But she won't tell me any of those things, saying that it's her cross to bear and no one else's. She usualy does that, and it makes me sad, that my best friend can't open up to me. But of course, that's the way she is. She will gladly take someone else's burden, piling it on top of her like a mule, but she won't let anyone else take hers, thinking that it's a sign of weakness...
Well I got to go Diary, Mashudo-sensi's a slave driver and I have lots of homework to do!!
Yours,
Toshi Matmesu
Stats:
Reiatsu - 100
Zanjutsu -- 40
Hakuda -- 50
Hohou -- 10
Kidou -- 0
Connection -- 0
The Sample Chapter: (Dun Dun DUUNNNN.....)
The cherry blossoms were in full bloom today and the garden looked stunning. School had been dismissed today for some reason or another, Mynar never paid any attention to that. Any day off was a good excuse in her book. She had no homework from the previous day, which was a god-send for her. No spells to practice, no defensive techniques to repeat over and over again until they could regurgitate them on a second's notice, and finally, no written assignments about the nature of your Zanpakutou's origins.
She opened her eyes and looked around at the nature surrounding her. She was sitting on a large wooden platform in the middle of the impressive garden that the academy sported, no doubt for students just like her to sit and relax, letting the stresses of the day bleed away and reveal the person beneath all of the facts and trivia slopped onto them. The platform, about 40 feet across, was large enough to spar on, but was better for lunch picnics and sun bathing. It was surrounded by rich, green grass, manicured by an invisible landscaper, always the same height every time she came here.
A small creek flowed through the garden, killing any noise that tried to enter the garden with a pleasant, almost calming, natural sound. Several cherry blossoms and small trees lined this river, and at this time of day, shrouded the platform in a cooling shade, the sun not quite ready to make its travels across the sky yet. Mynar was sort of an early bird, loving to get up early and listen to nature before anyone else could get in the way of it.
Speaking of which, she hadn't seen Toshi yet...Mynar smiled at this small joke she made to herself. Whenever Mynar had a moment to stop and breathe, Toshi seemed to come out of nowhere and ruin it, asking Mynar questions or just wanting to hang out, which was fine, but it got annoying at times. Toshi was Mynar's best friend, the pair complimenting each other on their opposite's hair on the first day and the next thing anyone knew, they were inseparable. Mynar and Toshi could almost never be found apart, but that was because Mynar was always up before Toshi. Toshi-san was one of those people that seemed to take forever to wake up, sleeping under piles of pillows and stuffed animals like a dog in a cave. Her snoring was horrendous too, but Mynar toned it out at night.
Mynar opened her eyes again, not even realizing that she shut them in the first place. He mind had wandered again. She didn't mind it at all, in fact, she wanted to come out here to think, and her mind was just clearing a path before it happened. Standing up from sitting 'Indian' style, Mynar stretched a bit, pulling a few small kinks out of her body before practicing today. Even if her instructors told her that she needed to wait to get in contact with her Zanpackutou, she felt compelled to at least practice a little. She wanted to get acquainted with it, and slowly but surely, she was getting to know it.
But now was not yet the time to pull it out. No...now was the time to calm her mind. Standing straight up, she slid a foot forward and placed her hands out in front of her, the muscles of her body lose and flexible. Breathing slowly, she began a very simple Tai Chi routine, moving her hands back and forth like the wind, but keeping her feet firmly on the ground, like rocks. Her movements made her look somewhat like a tree swaying in a heavy wind, the roots never moving, but the limbs flying all over.
Picking up the pace a little, she started to move faster, moving in large circles, pushing away bad energy, blocking invisible enemies, focusing her attentions on the movements, becoming one with the routines that she memorized. As she got quicker, the movements became more focused, more firm in execution, and seemingly harder. The movements started to look more like actual martial arts skills instead of a simple middle aged woman's hobby.
Starting to venture kicks and punches, the movements were coming lightning quick now, flashing to her left and right, but never losing the fluid motion that is representative of Tai Chi. As her routine came to a close, she pulled back into a neutral stance and breathed slowly, claming her heart down. A small layer of perspiration could be seen on her forehead.
Now was the time she would get familiar with her sword. Pulling it out, the Pilipino machete was definately her style. A large cutting weapon, it was wielded like a medieval sword from England, the blade pointed outward with malicious intent behind it. It was a chopping weapon with a large point on the top of it for stabbing motions. But, after many training sessions, Mynar seemed to get the impression that her sword liked to chop, favoring heavy, crippling blows to the deft, quick motions of the katanas in her class.
Pulling it out and holding it like a rapier, she stood still for a moment, trying to decide what maneuvers she wanted to practice with the blade. So far, she had covered some of the quicker, more nimble techniques, but only to fall on her butt most of the time and start over. The more heavy-handed positions and tactics seemed to pull more out of the sword. Thinking of a perfect scenario, she pulled the blade back until it almost touched her shoulder and focused on the techniques she would need.
Swinging in a large downward arch, she cut a large swath into the air, the black onyx gleaming in the sunlight of the morning. She continued on for a little like that, using the momentum from her larger strikes to link for combinations of strikes that many would not see coming. Her mind began to wander, never really focusing on the techniques, but simply regurgitating the information from her mind. She felt her mind leave the present, her body simply matching blueprints in her mind to actual manuvers in real life. It started to lean more toward her past, her life before this. It had happened before, and she could swear to the heavens that it was the sword, but theoretically, she wasn't even supposed to be doing anything with it at this point. 'Well, they can screw themselves.' Mynar thought curtly as her mind continued to wander.
But her wandering started to go towards bad places, places that she had shut off for years. She was fine with the memories of her job as a UN translator and she was fine with the probes into her life in the underground, but somehow, her train of thought landed on her ex-fiancÁƒ ©...Mynar almost lost her concentration, landing a bit hard on her foot and loosing the momentum for the follow up strike that was coming. She re-adjusted her stance after recovering and continued, trying to push Thomas out of her mind, trying to force him back with every stroke of the blade in front of her.
But he kept coming back, haunting her over and over again. Speaking her name, plaguing her. Mynar didn't realize it, but her strikes were becoming more frenzied, more powerful as her anger started to build.
'I did not deserve that...' She thought as she danced in the air with her sword.
'I didn't justify the way you treated me. I never gave you reason!!' The yelling in her head was getting louder, blocking out anything her senses tried to tell her, fury guiding her movements.
'Why did you have to get violent? Why did you drink or cheat on me?' She knew this sounded pretty cookie cutter abusive boyfriend type of situation, but I didn't stop her from feeling helpless at the feeling of it. She never deserved that from anyone, but she couldn't stop it....that's what made her angry, infuriated at his actions. The mere fact that she couldn't stop him pissed her off immensely.
"Mynar!!!" She stopped the sword mid-swing, realizing the voice of her friend, Toshi. The Bolo blade was a few centimeters from her friend's throat, and Toshi was a white as a ghost. Dropping the blade, Mynar rushed over to Toshi and hugged her. "I am so sorry, Toshi-san, I was involved in my practice, and I lost track of reality, and...I am sorry Toshi!!"
"No-no Mynar, it was all my fault. I forgot the number one rule of someone swinging a sword. Don't get near them..." Toshi chuckled nervously, unconciously rubbing her neck. Almost as an afterthought, she lifted a small picnic basket into view. "I figured you could use some breakfast!!"
Mynar smiled appreciatively as she picked up her sword off of the ground. "That's sweet of you, Toshi. Thank you." Mynar's stomach rumbled at that comment, making her blush in embarrassment. "I am rather hungry..." She said to a smiling Toshi.
(1,500 words)
[11th] Week 99: Mynar Zibrinski
Contact Info: Trigger82788
Email: zypher2788@yahoo.com
Name (English Format): Mynar Elissa Zibrinski (My-Nar E-Liss-a Zee-bring-ski)
Age: Looks 32, actually about 79 from birth.
Persona: As far away from conformist as one can get, Mynar lives and breathes individuality. Everything from her stark blue hair to her ruby red eyes screams "I am different and proud!!" Growing up under constant teasing can either make someone accept their characteristics or reject them entirely. Mynar borders on flaunting her differences to everyone, going as far as to try and stick out like a sore thumb in a crowd.
She always treats people like she thinks they need to be treated. If they are nice and conciderate, she will return the pleasentries. If they are rude and obnoxious, she will treat them the same way. Rank and stature have no bearing on this, and she frequently gets in trouble for mouthing of to a higher ranking officer.
She wasn't one to worry during life and that was one of the major things she retained as she moved into Soul society. Taking the notion that everything would work itself out in time has not fallen on deaf ears with her, as letting her relax where others would be strung out and stressed beyond belief is a very endaring qulaity she posseses. Many people think her lazy, but none can say that anything asked of her was never done; it's just done at such a pace that no one notices. She often practices Tai Chi, a favorite in her life before this, as it calms and relaxes her even further.
However, this seemingly calm exterior houses a typhoon of a temper. An extremely short fuse accompanies excellent verbal jousting skills, as well as an unrelenting sense of justice. If she feels something is wrong, she will flat out tell you. No beating around the bush, instead, a blunt honesty will be thrown your way and most of the time, no one expects it. She speaks her mind freely, mostly ignoring commonly accepted traditions and social rules in favor of being heard. Most people listen better when in a state of shock...
Physical Stature: Many men have described her as one hell of a woman. Standing at 6'2" , her stature was more then enough to discourage many players and hustler to stay away from her. Her natural blue hair is situated in Dreadlocks that, when they are in a bun, reach down to the bottom of her shoulders. Her face is distinctly Slavic, the pronounced jaw line and low eyebrows complimenting her athletic build and height. But the most noticeable feature of her face are her ruby red eyes. Again, natural red is a rare color, let alone blue hair, but it happened to her, both genetic defects passed onto her by her parents.
Her neon blue hair brings attention to her soft features; thin eyebrows and a small nose simply draw even more attention to her ruby red eyes. One of the more outstanding features she has is her eyes' betrayal of her emotions. Anything she feels, the 'fires of her soul' react in her eyes. Burning with passion, raging with anger, or timid with anxiousness, her eyes tell all.
After years of playing lacrosse and racquetball, as well as Tai Chi, her body is in good condition, but her second job as a handywoman left her toned with muscles that aren't caused by workouts or weights, but from natural work and hard labor. Her arms are not overly large, but show off her defined athleticism. Legs, long and muscular, somehow end up being largely feminine on her, starching out her frame, and adding more curves to her body.
And curves she has. Wide hips and a fairly large chest given to her as a present from God has gotten her into more than one Rave without paying, but she never really takes advantage of their wiles on men (and some women), simply content to be blessed.
As part of the underground culture before her death, she was always a little on the edgier side, surprising people by dressing in ways that no one would expect. But her greatest leap was when she decided on a tattoo for herself. Thinking it the ultimate expression of individuality (short of pricings), she let herself go under the needle to get it. The result of about 2 days worth of work was a large tribal tattoo that covers her back, one little extension sprouting down her right arm, twisting around it until it reaches the back of her hand, ending in a small curve.
Her uniform is a bit different too. The simple black uniform and white belt she was given made her fit in, even with her hair. After a few weeks of this, Mynar had enough. She snuck out one night, used the small amount of money she had to buy yards of shiny white cloth and a black ribbon. She spent that next week hand stitching a new uniform for herself, staying up all night, every night, to finish it. Exhausted, but proud, she wore the new uniform to class the next week. It was a pure white Chinese style kimono, the turtle-neck holding her front up. Right under the collar was cut off at the back, and the entire dress was backless, showing off her impressive tattoo. The kimono was styled to be a halter top, exposing her arms and back, but not being too whorish. The top ties at her waist, running into a large samurai style trouser covering her legs. The black ribbon serves as her belt. Sure...she had to do 1000 extra knuckle push-ups every time she wore it (which was everyday), but after doing that, her instructors never said a word about it.
Division and Seat: 11th Division, any seat.
Zanpakutou: Her sword is a larger version on a Bolo Knife, a machete type weapon, originating in the Philippines. The straight bladed weapons features a downward pointing edge and a two handed grip forcing the wielder to hold it upwards and to the side, blade facing out. The blade is made out of jet black onyx, slightly lighter around where it is sharpened. The hilt is a simple extension of the blade, but the grip is made out of small rope, twisted around the extension until the desired grip is made. A small rope tail falls off of the back with a small spherical weight on the end.
Biography: (As read from the diary of Mynar's best friend in the academy, Toshi Matmesu)
Mynar's a tough nut to crack, Diary. No matter how hard I try, she just won't tell me anything about her life before...well death. She's only given me enough to get to know her....no details, no personal feelings, nothing. This is what i got so far...
She was born in Russia to a low income family some where in the city Omsk, close to the Irtysh River on the southern end, right before Kazakhstan. They never really had the money to do anything, but her parents loved her the same. Enrolling her in the closest public school was easy, as by this point, education was more institutionalized. She did okay, her grades were average and nothing really outstanding occurred. Untill she got an opportunity in high school to travel to Japan for a semester. She snatched it up, taking advantage of the scholarships they offered her because she was part of a poor family.
She said the experience was amazing. She loved the Japanese language and picked it up quickly. Her foster family saw that she had a gift with languages, and encoraged her to study harder than she thought possible to get into a nice college. She agreed to study in Japan for a degree in language, and with permission from her parents, she lived with the foster family for 4 more years, picking up english, spanish, and Chinese reather quickly. At a job fair at the small community college, a small time recruiter recognized her ability and got in contact with a UN executive for her, asking for a Job.
This started a very successful carrer as a translator in the UN. She even got to bump shoulders with the big wigs and even influenced a very large bill that got passed because of some very fancy wordwork by her. She won't talk about that one, as she is still bound by her word never to speak of it....even though she is dead...she is strange, diary.
Now, she had started to venture to several locations as part of her job and recognized the various diffrences between the cities, but one thing was the same. The underground culture of Raves, dance parties, clubs...all of them enticing and strangely alluring to her. She did a little research to see what to expect, and found out that she loved the things it stood for. She dove deep in, getting involed in rave, meeting with the dj's on several occasions, and even becoming the co-ordinator for a large scale party right under the cop's noses.
That's when she decided on the tattoo and her style of dress. Since then, she has let her work speak for her instead of her dress, surprising many an ambassador by her personal flair, but proving more than adept at negotiations and lingusitcs, more often than not winning over the ambassadors. She loved her job.
But a random shove in a subway heading home one night left her high and dry, and in Soul society. She was 32, her 33rd birthday the very next day. She is still battling to this day over things she left behind and things left unsaid to those she loved. But she won't tell me any of those things, saying that it's her cross to bear and no one else's. She usualy does that, and it makes me sad, that my best friend can't open up to me. But of course, that's the way she is. She will gladly take someone else's burden, piling it on top of her like a mule, but she won't let anyone else take hers, thinking that it's a sign of weakness...
Well I got to go Diary, Mashudo-sensi's a slave driver and I have lots of homework to do!!
Yours,
Toshi Matmesu
Stats:
Reiatsu - 100
Zanjutsu -- 40
Hakuda -- 50
Hohou -- 10
Kidou -- 0
Connection -- 0
The Sample Chapter: (Dun Dun DUUNNNN.....)
The cherry blossoms were in full bloom today and the garden looked stunning. School had been dismissed today for some reason or another, Mynar never paid any attention to that. Any day off was a good excuse in her book. She had no homework from the previous day, which was a god-send for her. No spells to practice, no defensive techniques to repeat over and over again until they could regurgitate them on a second's notice, and finally, no written assignments about the nature of your Zanpakutou's origins.
She opened her eyes and looked around at the nature surrounding her. She was sitting on a large wooden platform in the middle of the impressive garden that the academy sported, no doubt for students just like her to sit and relax, letting the stresses of the day bleed away and reveal the person beneath all of the facts and trivia slopped onto them. The platform, about 40 feet across, was large enough to spar on, but was better for lunch picnics and sun bathing. It was surrounded by rich, green grass, manicured by an invisible landscaper, always the same height every time she came here.
A small creek flowed through the garden, killing any noise that tried to enter the garden with a pleasant, almost calming, natural sound. Several cherry blossoms and small trees lined this river, and at this time of day, shrouded the platform in a cooling shade, the sun not quite ready to make its travels across the sky yet. Mynar was sort of an early bird, loving to get up early and listen to nature before anyone else could get in the way of it.
Speaking of which, she hadn't seen Toshi yet...Mynar smiled at this small joke she made to herself. Whenever Mynar had a moment to stop and breathe, Toshi seemed to come out of nowhere and ruin it, asking Mynar questions or just wanting to hang out, which was fine, but it got annoying at times. Toshi was Mynar's best friend, the pair complimenting each other on their opposite's hair on the first day and the next thing anyone knew, they were inseparable. Mynar and Toshi could almost never be found apart, but that was because Mynar was always up before Toshi. Toshi-san was one of those people that seemed to take forever to wake up, sleeping under piles of pillows and stuffed animals like a dog in a cave. Her snoring was horrendous too, but Mynar toned it out at night.
Mynar opened her eyes again, not even realizing that she shut them in the first place. He mind had wandered again. She didn't mind it at all, in fact, she wanted to come out here to think, and her mind was just clearing a path before it happened. Standing up from sitting 'Indian' style, Mynar stretched a bit, pulling a few small kinks out of her body before practicing today. Even if her instructors told her that she needed to wait to get in contact with her Zanpackutou, she felt compelled to at least practice a little. She wanted to get acquainted with it, and slowly but surely, she was getting to know it.
But now was not yet the time to pull it out. No...now was the time to calm her mind. Standing straight up, she slid a foot forward and placed her hands out in front of her, the muscles of her body lose and flexible. Breathing slowly, she began a very simple Tai Chi routine, moving her hands back and forth like the wind, but keeping her feet firmly on the ground, like rocks. Her movements made her look somewhat like a tree swaying in a heavy wind, the roots never moving, but the limbs flying all over.
Picking up the pace a little, she started to move faster, moving in large circles, pushing away bad energy, blocking invisible enemies, focusing her attentions on the movements, becoming one with the routines that she memorized. As she got quicker, the movements became more focused, more firm in execution, and seemingly harder. The movements started to look more like actual martial arts skills instead of a simple middle aged woman's hobby.
Starting to venture kicks and punches, the movements were coming lightning quick now, flashing to her left and right, but never losing the fluid motion that is representative of Tai Chi. As her routine came to a close, she pulled back into a neutral stance and breathed slowly, claming her heart down. A small layer of perspiration could be seen on her forehead.
Now was the time she would get familiar with her sword. Pulling it out, the Pilipino machete was definately her style. A large cutting weapon, it was wielded like a medieval sword from England, the blade pointed outward with malicious intent behind it. It was a chopping weapon with a large point on the top of it for stabbing motions. But, after many training sessions, Mynar seemed to get the impression that her sword liked to chop, favoring heavy, crippling blows to the deft, quick motions of the katanas in her class.
Pulling it out and holding it like a rapier, she stood still for a moment, trying to decide what maneuvers she wanted to practice with the blade. So far, she had covered some of the quicker, more nimble techniques, but only to fall on her butt most of the time and start over. The more heavy-handed positions and tactics seemed to pull more out of the sword. Thinking of a perfect scenario, she pulled the blade back until it almost touched her shoulder and focused on the techniques she would need.
Swinging in a large downward arch, she cut a large swath into the air, the black onyx gleaming in the sunlight of the morning. She continued on for a little like that, using the momentum from her larger strikes to link for combinations of strikes that many would not see coming. Her mind began to wander, never really focusing on the techniques, but simply regurgitating the information from her mind. She felt her mind leave the present, her body simply matching blueprints in her mind to actual manuvers in real life. It started to lean more toward her past, her life before this. It had happened before, and she could swear to the heavens that it was the sword, but theoretically, she wasn't even supposed to be doing anything with it at this point. 'Well, they can screw themselves.' Mynar thought curtly as her mind continued to wander.
But her wandering started to go towards bad places, places that she had shut off for years. She was fine with the memories of her job as a UN translator and she was fine with the probes into her life in the underground, but somehow, her train of thought landed on her ex-fiancÁƒ ©...Mynar almost lost her concentration, landing a bit hard on her foot and loosing the momentum for the follow up strike that was coming. She re-adjusted her stance after recovering and continued, trying to push Thomas out of her mind, trying to force him back with every stroke of the blade in front of her.
But he kept coming back, haunting her over and over again. Speaking her name, plaguing her. Mynar didn't realize it, but her strikes were becoming more frenzied, more powerful as her anger started to build.
'I did not deserve that...' She thought as she danced in the air with her sword.
'I didn't justify the way you treated me. I never gave you reason!!' The yelling in her head was getting louder, blocking out anything her senses tried to tell her, fury guiding her movements.
'Why did you have to get violent? Why did you drink or cheat on me?' She knew this sounded pretty cookie cutter abusive boyfriend type of situation, but I didn't stop her from feeling helpless at the feeling of it. She never deserved that from anyone, but she couldn't stop it....that's what made her angry, infuriated at his actions. The mere fact that she couldn't stop him pissed her off immensely.
"Mynar!!!" She stopped the sword mid-swing, realizing the voice of her friend, Toshi. The Bolo blade was a few centimeters from her friend's throat, and Toshi was a white as a ghost. Dropping the blade, Mynar rushed over to Toshi and hugged her. "I am so sorry, Toshi-san, I was involved in my practice, and I lost track of reality, and...I am sorry Toshi!!"
"No-no Mynar, it was all my fault. I forgot the number one rule of someone swinging a sword. Don't get near them..." Toshi chuckled nervously, unconciously rubbing her neck. Almost as an afterthought, she lifted a small picnic basket into view. "I figured you could use some breakfast!!"
Mynar smiled appreciatively as she picked up her sword off of the ground. "That's sweet of you, Toshi. Thank you." Mynar's stomach rumbled at that comment, making her blush in embarrassment. "I am rather hungry..." She said to a smiling Toshi.
(1,500 words)