Phillip Slate
Character
One foot in front of another. Precise and fluid strikes. Control your lightsaber as if it was an extension of yourself. As if it was a paintbrush flowing from point to point. Parry. Deflect. Beads of sweat dripped down Phillip's face as he sparred with the training droid, keeping one hand held behind his back, knuckles placed up against himself. He was not the strongest Jedi. He wasn't even the strongest amongst the Padawans. A fact that he tried not to focus on. It was an excuse. It was the excuse he had used for not having a master. For having to teach himself. And excuses were never useful. They held you back. He continued to do a few flourishes against the droid, making subtle movements to deflect its dual-training sabers coming at him from each side. He was pushing himself harder than he normally did. The Padawan felt like he had to pick up on his martial skills. He was smart. He was somewhat proficient in the Force. But when it came to duelling? He felt like he was being left behind.
It was getting time for him to finish the practice. Keeping himself aligned with his line of movement, Phillip took a retreating step back, alongside a small slash towards one of the training droid's limbs, sending the appendage soaring through the sky in a flurry of sparks. Then with the next slash inbound towards him, Phillip twisted his body to the side to dodge before launching himself forward into a thrust with his saber to strike the droid in it's core. The Padawan stayed in the position, crouched low down to the ground with his right leg stretched outwards for a moment...Letting out a single exhale before he switched his saber off and brought himself back to a standing position, brushing off his robes.
"Need to work on my footwork more. Reduce the unnecessary movements I'm making."
In the past few years of training, the more nervous aspect of Phillip had crumbled away. The fear that he couldn't keep up with the others having faded away into nothingness...Instead however, he had grown to be more harsh on himself. There were things he could do better. Always. He shouldn't be pleased with where he was yet. If he was ever to become a Knight, he'd need to be able to prove himself to someone. To anyone willing to teach him.
With that being said, he made his way to the side of the training room, to grab a canteen of water. Before he quenched his thirst however, Phillip removed the cap and poured some of it over his head. He had pushed himself quite a bit but now it was time for a well needed rest as he then sat himself down on the ground taking a few sips from the canteen. If he chugged it down, he knew it would only be a matter of time before it came back up. Now...what was on his schedule to do next?
