Iron Finesse - Mandalorian Bes'briik Training (Mandalorians, Mandalorian Protectors)

[Azrael]

In the course of his life, Azrael had learned that to deal with issues that were not physical in nature, but more mental based, he had to control his mind, and divert his attention. Dwelling on things he could not control, or issues that were too large for one man to address fully was a fool's errand, and he certainly wasn't going to attempt such a feat alone. When the opportunity presented itself to train with a weapon he'd not handled before, he wagered that would be a suitable distraction and deterrent from his current load of burden that wore heavy on the Field Marshal's shoulders. The links of besk'ar clinked lightly in the clawed grasp of his bionic arm, as he ran fingers of flesh over the linked chain, feeling the cool metal press to the pads of each digit, and noting the simplistic design. Sometimes simple was best when making something useful and varied. He'd gotten the same advice from Gilamar when he was crafting his armor. Too complicated made it too precise, and often costly and hard to repair. It was better to have simple concepts that could bend and adapt to a changing environment.

Trading positions, the nine links of chain shifted to his hand of flesh where he would have the most control and precision for the weapon. His arm raised to shoulder height and the chain unfurled, dropping down like a waterfall to hover just above the ground. The pointed spike barely graced the soil beneath his boots. As instructed, that was to be the perfect length, and would ensure that it would be the most effective without causing jeopardy. A slow arcing motion pulled the chain into motion, drawing into a forward movement and circling in a long arch until the chain became taught from the pull of gravity on the end. Barely even a whisper of movement came as the chain links allowed the air to pass. A weapon of grace and silence that could certainly strike with power and speed. Starting with a rhythmic cadence, and nearly counting to himself each rotation, Azrael drew his arm up and let the chain impact on his bicep as he turned the direction, and inverted the spin. The trajectory was a bit off however, and the metal dart swung wild, missing his face by a mere foot as it clanked loudly on his bionic arm, raised in defense. A silent frown and creasing of his brows was offered before he dropped the chain back to a starting position and attempted it again. This time, in anticipation, he drew his left hand closer to his chest for easier access to thwart quick moving object.

Again the circumference of the chain moved in a measured staccato, feeling his body begin to synchronize with the silent beat. Rolling his shoulder forward and extending his arm, the chain impact his arm, wrapping around before he rolled it to the left. A far more successful bout drew the linked whip through the air in the opposite course. The tug of a satisfied smirk rested on his visage. Despite whatever he was going through, Azrael still enjoyed the small things. Understanding a new technique, or learning a new skill would almost always give him some degree of pleasure to combat whatever darkness he was facing in his life. Betna likely didn't know it, but this was about as therapeutic as it got for the Field Marshal right now.

[member="Arrbi Betna"] | [member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Anija Ordo"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Arla Balor"] | [member="Silas Mantis"] | [member="Kal Kandossii"] | [member="Brick"] | [member="Atin Kandossii"]

 

[Muad Dib]

He leaned into his wife's kiss enjoying the contact. Even with the small audience of vode he still didn't go all out with displays of emotion of any kind. It was just who he was. But with Chloe it was different. He was different. He would never hide from the love he felt for her nor would he shirk his feelings for her. She was part of him. And he her. He loved her with no restraint. And being here on Manda'yaim made him know this was right. Soon he needed to move his clan back home. But today was about learning the new weapon and forging lasting bonds with these men and women. As the others began growing acquainted with the weapon he did too.

Following the lead others had started he too began practicing. As he mirrored Arrbi he let the length of the chain twirl, feeling the fulcrum of his bicep and forearm change the balance of the chain as he spun it. Already his mind analyzed the opportunities the weapon gave. A ranged weapon of the melee type combined with a decent defensive characteristic and an explosive strike. A tool that could pass for a belt or other aesthetic wardrobe choices. Triple wrapped necklace, boot wrappings, even just an id link to keep your personal possessions secure.

Swinging the chain he twirled the chain behind his back, round his neck, keeping the chain close to his body and hands with intricate loops that could be used to block and parry strikes from limb or blade. But with a swift twist and pull he could use the inertia built and strike the weapon out from his body that sent the spike striking out in a thrust of sorts. The end flew straight at an imaginable attack. As the chain went taut and the chains stretched the spike went straight. As the weapon recoiled he turned and used the force of the blow to pull the weapon back to him, catching the loose chain and wreathing the toll back between forearm and wrist building power in the chain once more. A flick of his wrist and arm outstretched turned the bes'briik into a whip that he used to lash his pictured foe before coiling the returning chains around his forearm again, winding it from elbow to wrist deftly snatching the point the point with his palm ending with a thrust forward with the business end of the spike secured in his hand.

He smiled. "Nice".