Post by mystique on Jul 14, 2006 15:31:15 GMT -5
Mystique stepped out onto the practice yard, observing the scattered array of crumpled metal and slabs of concrete.
She'd always hated this place. It was beneath Eric, and yet they'd never had enough time to improve it. It served the purposes of those whose abilites were more crude, but for a woman who'd trained her whole life to disarm not only secured locations but individuals, sometimes crowds of them? It was like playing violin in a car park.
But she had to see what she was still capable of. Completely naked, her fair human skin would have presented a different picture than the blue-grey she once walked around in- had anyone been watching, that is. She looked around her; it wasn't that she had any shame whatsoever about being nude. Perhaps she was afraid of showing just how much she'd lost when they took her soul away.
Mystique took a run across a clear area and dove forward, falling into a series of three quarter turns and backsprings. It was exhilirating to know her body retained that ability, muscle memory not muted by that accursed serum.
At least not completely.
As she bent at the waist to kick a leg up over her head, balanced on one hand, she wasn't able to contort her body at the proper angle- and landed flat on her back, kicking up dust around her bare form. It took a moment for anger to settle; she had to talk herself out of losing her temper. She wondered how many others mutants had experienced this indignity.
Getting back up, Mystique brushed dirt from her rear and walked out to the center again. A slow backflip, settling her right where she had begun. There was a day she could have done backflips on the end of a flagpole. It was just as important now to know her limitations, before she walked into NovaTeX.
Only one way to find out.
Running at a cascading heap of rubble, she planted a hand on the lowest outcropping of concrete, launched her legs over her head, managing to keep her balance as her feet landed correctly and she leapt up the hill with a few deft movements. She saw a scrap of torn red plastic in between two sheaths of metal and decided to challenge herself- tilting backwards, she went for a handstand, hoping to pluck the plastic out from its hiding spot.
Instead Mystique lost her balance, muscles failing as they realized they simply didn't have the same agility as before. She went tumbling down the far end of the pile, landing roughly on her side near the ground.
Mystique sat up, running her fingers into her hair, fingernails scraping her scalp. Her teeth clenched tightly as tears filled her eyes. It was one thing to endure and believe in her own survival. It was another entirely to watch herself fail.
She hadn't shed a tear nor indulged herself in a single second of pain over all that had happened. She hadn't mourned anyone she'd lost, nor felt sorry for herself when the foundation of her world fell apart beneath her feet. She hadn't doubted for a second she would come back from this hell, set to spill her vengeance on the system that contrived her awful fate.
And she wasn't going to begin now.
She'd always hated this place. It was beneath Eric, and yet they'd never had enough time to improve it. It served the purposes of those whose abilites were more crude, but for a woman who'd trained her whole life to disarm not only secured locations but individuals, sometimes crowds of them? It was like playing violin in a car park.
But she had to see what she was still capable of. Completely naked, her fair human skin would have presented a different picture than the blue-grey she once walked around in- had anyone been watching, that is. She looked around her; it wasn't that she had any shame whatsoever about being nude. Perhaps she was afraid of showing just how much she'd lost when they took her soul away.
Mystique took a run across a clear area and dove forward, falling into a series of three quarter turns and backsprings. It was exhilirating to know her body retained that ability, muscle memory not muted by that accursed serum.
At least not completely.
As she bent at the waist to kick a leg up over her head, balanced on one hand, she wasn't able to contort her body at the proper angle- and landed flat on her back, kicking up dust around her bare form. It took a moment for anger to settle; she had to talk herself out of losing her temper. She wondered how many others mutants had experienced this indignity.
Getting back up, Mystique brushed dirt from her rear and walked out to the center again. A slow backflip, settling her right where she had begun. There was a day she could have done backflips on the end of a flagpole. It was just as important now to know her limitations, before she walked into NovaTeX.
Only one way to find out.
Running at a cascading heap of rubble, she planted a hand on the lowest outcropping of concrete, launched her legs over her head, managing to keep her balance as her feet landed correctly and she leapt up the hill with a few deft movements. She saw a scrap of torn red plastic in between two sheaths of metal and decided to challenge herself- tilting backwards, she went for a handstand, hoping to pluck the plastic out from its hiding spot.
Instead Mystique lost her balance, muscles failing as they realized they simply didn't have the same agility as before. She went tumbling down the far end of the pile, landing roughly on her side near the ground.
Mystique sat up, running her fingers into her hair, fingernails scraping her scalp. Her teeth clenched tightly as tears filled her eyes. It was one thing to endure and believe in her own survival. It was another entirely to watch herself fail.
She hadn't shed a tear nor indulged herself in a single second of pain over all that had happened. She hadn't mourned anyone she'd lost, nor felt sorry for herself when the foundation of her world fell apart beneath her feet. She hadn't doubted for a second she would come back from this hell, set to spill her vengeance on the system that contrived her awful fate.
And she wasn't going to begin now.