The 8th Noble
One step after the other: up, up, down, down. The process, she had been told, was good for the heart and a good way to build up her stamina. While Colette had spent most of her life walking between one different spot to the other. The trainer she had been assigned told her that such exercise was good for maintenance but that from now on they were looking to push those limits into something better, something stronger.
So, she was told to step up and down from this tiny little step until tired. After that, she would lie down on the ground and 'just sit up straight again' until she couldn't do that anymore. Finally, at the end of all that, she would have to turn around on her stomach and use her arms to press herself up from the floor and then lower herself again.
While she was no stranger to the concept of these exercises in theory it was still a widely different thing to put them to practice. The hurt in Colette's arms, legs, chest, stomach and shoulders would ache every morning that she got up. They said it got easier with time, but she was about ready to swear bantha droppings on that.
The girl wrapped up her third and final set of repetitions for the day and collapsed onto a nearby bench where she kept her bottle and towel. She took a swig of water to cool herself down and wiped the worst of the sweat. Instinctively she began to look around the room. This gym section wasn't as populated as the others she found. It wasn't as flashy or advanced as the bigger section on the floor above, but it had everything that Colette needed to. Part of her had to wonder if the smell was what kept people away, or the fact that the air seemed just a little more dank or humid.
But, she was clearly not alone no matter how much she had wished for it. On the other end of the room stood a white-haired girl, a familiar face from the day that Colette had arrived. She seemed to be doing some sort of stretching exercise that Colette had no idea what it even was. Her head tilted to the side, her eyebrow raised for a moment as she tried to make sense of it all.
Was she… Punching the air?
Her eyes lingered on the way she seemed to extend her arms and legs. It was fascinating almost, what was this weird dance? Colette's eyes rose from the feet and up towards the white-haired girl's eyes. And then, she froze. Eye contact was achieved. Colette felt her heart pound against her chest, panic at the ready to pounce yet again as she hurriedly began to grasp at her towel to mash it against her forehead and at the very least APPEAR busy and not rudely staring at someone. Even if she admittedly was doing just that.
The other girl went back to her routine. It didn't take long for Colette to start staring again. What an odd routine. What was the point of it? Was it like some sort of force ritual, or some cultural thing? Her head slowly began to tilt again…
Lily Decoria
So, she was told to step up and down from this tiny little step until tired. After that, she would lie down on the ground and 'just sit up straight again' until she couldn't do that anymore. Finally, at the end of all that, she would have to turn around on her stomach and use her arms to press herself up from the floor and then lower herself again.
While she was no stranger to the concept of these exercises in theory it was still a widely different thing to put them to practice. The hurt in Colette's arms, legs, chest, stomach and shoulders would ache every morning that she got up. They said it got easier with time, but she was about ready to swear bantha droppings on that.
The girl wrapped up her third and final set of repetitions for the day and collapsed onto a nearby bench where she kept her bottle and towel. She took a swig of water to cool herself down and wiped the worst of the sweat. Instinctively she began to look around the room. This gym section wasn't as populated as the others she found. It wasn't as flashy or advanced as the bigger section on the floor above, but it had everything that Colette needed to. Part of her had to wonder if the smell was what kept people away, or the fact that the air seemed just a little more dank or humid.
But, she was clearly not alone no matter how much she had wished for it. On the other end of the room stood a white-haired girl, a familiar face from the day that Colette had arrived. She seemed to be doing some sort of stretching exercise that Colette had no idea what it even was. Her head tilted to the side, her eyebrow raised for a moment as she tried to make sense of it all.
Was she… Punching the air?
Her eyes lingered on the way she seemed to extend her arms and legs. It was fascinating almost, what was this weird dance? Colette's eyes rose from the feet and up towards the white-haired girl's eyes. And then, she froze. Eye contact was achieved. Colette felt her heart pound against her chest, panic at the ready to pounce yet again as she hurriedly began to grasp at her towel to mash it against her forehead and at the very least APPEAR busy and not rudely staring at someone. Even if she admittedly was doing just that.
The other girl went back to her routine. It didn't take long for Colette to start staring again. What an odd routine. What was the point of it? Was it like some sort of force ritual, or some cultural thing? Her head slowly began to tilt again…
