Beltor "Bell" Cyrus
The Good Doctor.
Beltor "Bell" Cyrus, PHD
Dantoonie Temple.
Personal quarters.
The hard edged tones and notes of Sugan Essena blared over the speakers, Bell was in his own mental state, his own sort of flow state only achieved by those taught by a master of the craft. Echanni Martial arts are often simply seen as a high level combat skill by those looking in. To the Echanni themselves, like his mother, they were equal parts mode of conversation and meditation.
He could have been meditating in the Jedi fashion, sitting still and finding inner contemplation, and while he had practiced before, it never had the same effect as letting his actions carry his emotions. The punching back rebounded off its tether with enough force to send it crashing in to him, and he moved with an instinctual grace. He rolled with the force, never letting its momentum over coming his as he rebounded off his back heel, slamming the other in to the side of the bag and sending it careening back in the opposite reaction.
It went on like this, operating at high tempo that, combined with his blossoming ability to read things in the force, would seem almost too fast. The bag came back around, and he sprang forward, and checked it with his leg. The spring of pain in his shin told him his form was on point, and he carried the blow through, sending the bag back along its wild arc...
The choice to let him have his own room was seen as a bit...favored, by some of the younger students, but it was explained to all that Beltor was a grown man, and initiate or not, it was improper to have a grown man sharing living space with teenagers, and thus he got a likely nominally nicer room with a window that overlooked the second story of the temple, and a view of the near by hills. On the table near his bed sat his saber, both Reverence and the still not completed shoto Braze had supplied the parts for. The rough cut Corsica gem sitting next to it and casting bright spirals of light on the table and near by wall. Next to it lay one of his other projects. The A-280 was unfinished and half built, an off assortment of after market parts and items lay next to it.
He planned on making a better rifle for the time being, as he knew well the value of a good rifle, but awaited upon a few parts before the weapon was ready for testing and field use.
Dantoonie Temple.
Personal quarters.
The hard edged tones and notes of Sugan Essena blared over the speakers, Bell was in his own mental state, his own sort of flow state only achieved by those taught by a master of the craft. Echanni Martial arts are often simply seen as a high level combat skill by those looking in. To the Echanni themselves, like his mother, they were equal parts mode of conversation and meditation.
He could have been meditating in the Jedi fashion, sitting still and finding inner contemplation, and while he had practiced before, it never had the same effect as letting his actions carry his emotions. The punching back rebounded off its tether with enough force to send it crashing in to him, and he moved with an instinctual grace. He rolled with the force, never letting its momentum over coming his as he rebounded off his back heel, slamming the other in to the side of the bag and sending it careening back in the opposite reaction.
It went on like this, operating at high tempo that, combined with his blossoming ability to read things in the force, would seem almost too fast. The bag came back around, and he sprang forward, and checked it with his leg. The spring of pain in his shin told him his form was on point, and he carried the blow through, sending the bag back along its wild arc...
The choice to let him have his own room was seen as a bit...favored, by some of the younger students, but it was explained to all that Beltor was a grown man, and initiate or not, it was improper to have a grown man sharing living space with teenagers, and thus he got a likely nominally nicer room with a window that overlooked the second story of the temple, and a view of the near by hills. On the table near his bed sat his saber, both Reverence and the still not completed shoto Braze had supplied the parts for. The rough cut Corsica gem sitting next to it and casting bright spirals of light on the table and near by wall. Next to it lay one of his other projects. The A-280 was unfinished and half built, an off assortment of after market parts and items lay next to it.
He planned on making a better rifle for the time being, as he knew well the value of a good rifle, but awaited upon a few parts before the weapon was ready for testing and field use.
