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 Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2017 4:02 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2017 4:14 pm
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With the success of her latest ship, Sarcel found herself milling about her office aimlessly. It was hard to stay focused between missions, especially when she wanted to be out in the thick of the fight, and while she considered patience to be one of her strongest virtues... it was wearing thin on her. Thankfully, there was still a promise that she could make good on.
Hopefully, Silcoe was being serious back there on the ship.
...
When Sarcel did eventually send out a formal request, it wasn't by her own person. She'd waited until she saw a recruit who didn't look like they had much to do, and (turning it into a lesson, of course) she pounced on their laziness to make sure the request found the right hands (shows you for not having better time management, Private!). It wasn't long or pretentious, just straight to the point: a time, location, and signature of her blue blooded symbol.
Now, the lieutenant found herself in one of the many military mandated gymnasiums. Well, more like a recreational space, the room was fitted for work out equipment (treadmills, a rack for weights, nothing fancy given the amount of space), but Sarcel still found herself busy with a punching bag by the far corner. Her jacket was discarded neatly on a wall hanger. Her arms weren't nearly as built up as her legs were, but it was obvious she still trained herself night by night, slowly working herself into a physical weapon, slowly getting stronger...
She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. Don't keep her waiting.
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Posted: Sun Dec 24, 2017 10:05 pm
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Forera had been delightfully pleased when she recieved the letter from a certain blueblooded lieutenant. She had definitely been serious about the fighting, and had meant to see it through some time, though she definitely had not expected it to be so soon after their ship. Her hands had recieved it, crumpled the letter, tossed it over her shoulder, and left. (Only to return and smooth it out, reread the letter, and tuck it in her waist.) (She was bad at remembering.) Forera strode on over to the recreational space, goggles firmly over her face with her hair pulled into a hasty pony. Her jacket was tight over her muscles and she adjusted her short shorts some before stomping into the room, grinning at the blueblood and crossing her arms, tucking her hands into her tight shorts and grinning. She was ready. (almost done! gomendasai)
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