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RP: Bahram Wing [Bahram Wing Side Story] Already Homesick

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Firebrand

Inactive Member
ON,Yetsava 16th
Fort Jariza, Mazerin
Excercise facilities

Stretched out on one of the dark blue mats, away from the weights and various machines, Reovan was reaching over her head and laying out to touch the tips of her toes. She was clad in standard Vanguard workout clothes, the sleevess mesh shirt, the short white spats, and padded-slipper socks over her feet. After she was done quietly counting to twenty she switched arms and sides, doing it again on the other side.

Nearby Reovan, Malik was there, trying to work off his frustration over his failure, and the fact that everyone apparently thought he was idiot. That is to say, the towering runner was using the bag for it's intended purpose, giving it a good workover. While he probably did need to talk to someone about his issues, the vayshirin felt like that would only make things worse.

Finishing with her stretches, the orange-eyed girl stood up and began to dance. It was actually a form of Sund Wakir martial arts, but with all the extraneous movements and the smooth flowing forms, it was more of a dance than an actual style of combat. Her arms stretched out, she dipped and spun around in the opposite direction, slowly, smoothy. As she came back up, her arms moved gracefully forward, and up as she lightly made her way to her toes, swgining one leg around and ending up facing her starting orientation.

That managed to get Mal's attention. Yeah, sure, Reovan probably thought he was an idiot, but damn, she was beautiful in her own way. His punching bag battering hands dropped to his sides as he stood there, watching her, entranced by the dance. So, this is the kind of woman who pilots an Erla VANDR?

Reovan's own thoughts were simply on keeping the rythym of her movements. She had the vigil for meditation to care for her soul, and the dance for meditation to care for her body. As she continued her dance, her dark skin began to take on a bright sheen as she quickened her pace, the workout becoming less rote repetition and more of the Sund Wakir challenging herself to complete the forms as quickly as possible, while maintaining her balance, poise and posture.

Malik watched more intently, trained eyes taking in every aspect of it. Yes, this was the kind of woman who piloted a VANDR. No, She didnt just pilot her VANDR, she became one with it. A graceful dancer of the desert sands, a fearsome warrior. She was, She was his ally, his wingmate.

Two steps forward, heel-toe, dip. Leg extended, turn. Raise. Hands out behind you. Bring them down, around, out and up again. Faster.
The rest of the world didn't exist to the desert-born Iromakuanhe. Not the fort, not Mazerin, not even the Makuori. It was just her and the mat and that was Reovan's universe at that moment. She wasn't thinking of Mu'Tasim and his harsh words, she wasn't thinking of the Soono she destroyed. There were no civilians that she helped Shokhi to save, there was no lamp or Quartermaster to bring it. Her thoughts were clear and her mind was at ease.

Malik continued to watch the Sund Wakir girl, and soon he found himself recalling Repulsion Brawling techniques. The grabs and throws, the quick strikes, and the powerful blows, all meant to wear your opponent out. He sat down on the floor, watching her intently, deep violet eyes enflamed with a childlike passion.

After a while, Reovan reached the end of her routine. The finish wasn't very flashy, but an abrupt, solid stance as she returned to a neutral postion. In that moment, the world and all it's existance came back and the Sund Wakir's resolve against the ills of the world had been reinforced. A small break and some water and the workout would continue. She stopped abruptly when she saw Malik sitting on the floor, having apparently been watching her for who knows how long, "Divine blessings," she greeted the Cohronl with a soft, soothing tone to her voice. "Could you toss me my towel, there?" she asked, pointing with a decorated finger to the rough cloth that was folded by Malik's place on the floor.

Malik stood up abruptly when he realised that she had finished, picking up her towel and handing it to her. "Divine blessing, Vayshirin Mehta. Though, I doubt you appreciate me calling you by that name since we, as wingmates, are supposed to be friends." The tall Cohronl scratched at his wild orange sideburns, blushing. "It's embarrasing, but I don't actually know your full name."

The Sund Wakir's orange eyes studied Vashirin Ibn Rashidan and his odd ways. "Thank you," Reovan responded, calmly and precisely as she began to wipe down her face and neck. Most of the others had their own pecularities, but Malik was even odder to her than the rest. His way of speaking, his actions. She didn't understand it at all. For instance, how did he not know her name? It was on the duty roster, and his VANDR should've displayed that as part of the information readout on Jarita. Perhaps he was just trying to be friendly and start a converstaion? "Vayshirin Reovan Mehta," she answered.

"Vayshirin Malik Ibn Rashidan. Apologies for my scatterbrainedness, I was thinking about something." Mal crossed his arms and relaxed his stature. "That dance you just did, it was some kind of martial art, right?"

"Sandswept Breeze," she answered cooly as she tossed the towel back onto the ground and picked up her canteen to have a drink. "Have you ever been to the Expanse?" she asked as she opened up the water container.

He shook his head, indicating a negative. "Being here on Mazerin is my first time off my home cylinder." Malik sighed. "Guess i'm the fish out of water here then, huh?"

"Hardly," Reovan answered after she had taken a drink. "Saint's know I wouldn't have come here to Mazerin if I hadn't been assigned to Jariza." She closed the canteen and set it back down. "I don't like the cold." The tone in her voice changed for that last line, it wasn't a very pleasant change at all.

"I don't think anyone here does, not even the natives." Mal laughed, joking a bit. "It was bad enough back on the cylinder, during a simulated rainy day. Here, It sucks."

The desert-born girl couldn't imagine what life in a simulated environment like the colonies was like. Perhaps that's why Malik was so odd to her. She smiled politely at his joke, "In the Nuocr, it's only cold at night, but never like this. Mazerin is-- beyond cold."

Malik visibly blushed at her smile, looking away. "You have a cute smile. No wonder Savitar is interested in you."

Her expression changed as she pursed her lips at his compliment, and apparent dismissal of her looks. The thing she missed most about the desert wasn't the heat, it was the people. Dealing with the multitude of alien Iromakuanhe cultures was trying on the simple girl. "Excuse me," she said enigmatically as she returned to the center of the exercise mat. "I need to continue here. Perhaps we can talk again, later."

Mal smiled widely, almost laughing. "Touchy subject? Sure you don't want to spar?"

"No thank you," she responded, turning away from the Cohronl. "I'd prefer not to."

Mal shrugged. "Okay then. It was nice meeting you though. I look forward to being your wingmate sometime."

There it was again, not only had they met before, but they flew a mission together as well. However, trying to figure out Ibn Rashidan's quirks was low on her priority list. If anything, it only indicated to Reovan how much the Shrinekeeper's rejection had hurt her, being one of the only other Sund Wakir on base. "Dreamer's favor," she said, bidding him adeu as she returned to her 'meditation.'
END
 
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