Spring Time of Youth
Arash Garshasp
Location: GCV “Guerdon", Hanger
Arash despised the maintenance part of the care for his speeder, it was a necessary evil no doubt to allow him to charge out into the battlefield with his lance. But why is it so tedious? The young warrior had done many of tedious actions before, but never had he ever found actions for the potential of battle to be, well as he lacked an extensive vocabulary, so tedious. Arash sighed and placed his tools back down with a somewhat satisfied smile.
With a clap of his hands the young Thyrsian male rolled his feet forward and jumped to stand back up, his hands extended upwards as he stretched his entire body with a single fluid motion. A yawn escaped his lips and Arash patted down his pants, gently his fingers traced a few stains, his eyes narrowed and focused on if he could just cover it up with his armor-plates. He had plenty of time before he needed to be ready, but his room was on the other side of the ship, and the walk to his room could be filled with potential traps from his sister.
Surya was always pestering him about finding time to have fun and play games as they had when they were younger, before she was- Arash made a face of discomfort remembering the dancing flames the last time he had agreed to one of her ‘games’. His sister was beyond gifted with the Force and the Flame Dancer lived not just up to her title but to Arash it redefined the name all together.
But honestly Surya, we can't always be on vacation. While his interests had turned else where, Arash would never admit to missing the time spent practicing his dances. As no doubt even the thought of it crossing his mind would be read and Surya would make it her personal goal in life to get the both of them back on the dance practice room.
His eyes gazed back to his armor waiting for him by his workbench. The Cerastus, his weapon, also laid next to his armor and the rest of his tools, the last instance of the use had caused his wrist slight discomfort when his grip had momentarily weakened and slipped. Arash had readjusted as quickly as he could, but the reflex had sent a twang of pain that spiked throughout his arm. Arash gently wrapped his fingers around the lance, the weapon instantly felt primed and ready for battle as if it had just been given to him the first time out of the armory.
Chuckles erupted from behind him, the other legionnaires often joked about the size of Arash and the lance itself, even when he had demonstrated his strength to wield such an unruly weapon the jokes continued. The young warrior hardly offered them so much of a glance after that, but the snickers were slowly testing his patience quite thin. Ignore them. Arash had already taken much after his father and sister Surya, the last thing he needed was to emulate the fiery temper and cause even more trouble and silent jokes on his own behalf.
Regardless, Arash released his grip on his lance and went ahead to begin putting on his armor once again. Youthful glee quickly washed away his earlier thoughts of disdain and he engrossed himself with carefully putting his armor back on. His helmet remained on top of his workbench and with its visor staring directly into Arash’s own brilliant ruby coloured eyes.
War, such a small tiny three letter word taught to Arash since he could even comprehend language, the act of war itself was always present. The thrill of battle entranced the Thyrsian youth, his eyes filled with lust to the prospect of engaging in the act of combat proper. War was in his veins as much as the sun bled from his soul. To ask him to change was the same as asking him to tear out his own heart.
“Let’s go earn you a few scratches and dents.” Arash held his helmet with both his hands right in front of his eyes.
[member="Khonsu Amon"]
Location: GCV “Guerdon", Hanger
Arash despised the maintenance part of the care for his speeder, it was a necessary evil no doubt to allow him to charge out into the battlefield with his lance. But why is it so tedious? The young warrior had done many of tedious actions before, but never had he ever found actions for the potential of battle to be, well as he lacked an extensive vocabulary, so tedious. Arash sighed and placed his tools back down with a somewhat satisfied smile.
With a clap of his hands the young Thyrsian male rolled his feet forward and jumped to stand back up, his hands extended upwards as he stretched his entire body with a single fluid motion. A yawn escaped his lips and Arash patted down his pants, gently his fingers traced a few stains, his eyes narrowed and focused on if he could just cover it up with his armor-plates. He had plenty of time before he needed to be ready, but his room was on the other side of the ship, and the walk to his room could be filled with potential traps from his sister.
Surya was always pestering him about finding time to have fun and play games as they had when they were younger, before she was- Arash made a face of discomfort remembering the dancing flames the last time he had agreed to one of her ‘games’. His sister was beyond gifted with the Force and the Flame Dancer lived not just up to her title but to Arash it redefined the name all together.
But honestly Surya, we can't always be on vacation. While his interests had turned else where, Arash would never admit to missing the time spent practicing his dances. As no doubt even the thought of it crossing his mind would be read and Surya would make it her personal goal in life to get the both of them back on the dance practice room.
His eyes gazed back to his armor waiting for him by his workbench. The Cerastus, his weapon, also laid next to his armor and the rest of his tools, the last instance of the use had caused his wrist slight discomfort when his grip had momentarily weakened and slipped. Arash had readjusted as quickly as he could, but the reflex had sent a twang of pain that spiked throughout his arm. Arash gently wrapped his fingers around the lance, the weapon instantly felt primed and ready for battle as if it had just been given to him the first time out of the armory.
Chuckles erupted from behind him, the other legionnaires often joked about the size of Arash and the lance itself, even when he had demonstrated his strength to wield such an unruly weapon the jokes continued. The young warrior hardly offered them so much of a glance after that, but the snickers were slowly testing his patience quite thin. Ignore them. Arash had already taken much after his father and sister Surya, the last thing he needed was to emulate the fiery temper and cause even more trouble and silent jokes on his own behalf.
Regardless, Arash released his grip on his lance and went ahead to begin putting on his armor once again. Youthful glee quickly washed away his earlier thoughts of disdain and he engrossed himself with carefully putting his armor back on. His helmet remained on top of his workbench and with its visor staring directly into Arash’s own brilliant ruby coloured eyes.
War, such a small tiny three letter word taught to Arash since he could even comprehend language, the act of war itself was always present. The thrill of battle entranced the Thyrsian youth, his eyes filled with lust to the prospect of engaging in the act of combat proper. War was in his veins as much as the sun bled from his soul. To ask him to change was the same as asking him to tear out his own heart.
“Let’s go earn you a few scratches and dents.” Arash held his helmet with both his hands right in front of his eyes.
[member="Khonsu Amon"]