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Description

--From a Star Wars RP--

He didn't understand - or maybe he did and was just pushing all the right buttons. Voska did as she was told, and hammered into the bag as fast and as hard as her fists would pummel. When she felt the skin over her knuckles begin to split and run slick with her own blood, she slammed her shoulder into the bag and threw all her weight into it. She listened to Verrin as her circled her. She responded to each word that left his lips and hit her heart with another violent strike against the bag. She could feel the burn in her legs, the sting in her elbows from throwing herself too hard into it. She gave a ferral smile at the pain, loving the way it hurt... loving the punishment and relishing in the physical distraction.

"Again," He told her and she happily obliged. Her heart listened to his words, but her head narrowed in on one thing. Busting this punching bag down from its chains and ripping it to shreads. He spoke of emotions, rights, desires, training, and strength. She listened to each without stopping, without relenting from her brute attack. The glow of his violet eyes circled her and caught the corner of her peripheral vision as he moved rhythmically around her.

"...We hate - not because that is all we have, but because we loved first. One cannot exist without the other - not in any real strength. The stronger our love, the stronger our hate....." there was a world in there that did more damage to her emotions than the one which should have. It wasn't the hatred that fueled her. It was the other thing... the one she was not supposed to feel, the one Valerian taught her was weak and useless. She screamed like a shrieking banshee and stepped back in one large movement. There wasn't enough air in here, and the air around her crackled with the force. She couldn't hold it out, and she didn't want to hold back. Still he continued to speak to her. "The stronger our emotions, the stronger our connection to the Dark Side of the Force, and the stronger we are. Let loose your rage - see it affect your strikes? Could you hit so hard without such feeling - such commitment?"

She glared at the inanimate punching bag as if it were her sworn enemy and her body filled to the brim with an itching kind of power that exceeded natural adrenaline. Suddenly she felt too far from the bag and held out her open palm pulling the bag to her. She willed it with one hard yank and the chains hanging the bag from the ceiling groaned against it. The chain at the top of the bag complained loudly then popped as the bag was ripped from its hinge and flew toward her. She embraced it with one arm as she twisted sideways and slammed it into the floor. The ground shuttered and the seam of the bag split. Seeing the innards didn't please her. It ticked her off. Insensibly, she wanted to relish its defeat as if it were a living, breathing, squirming thing. Which of course it was not. She turned back to Verrin, unsure what to do next.

"Tell me Voska. Tell me how you feel."

"I feel betrayed." she answered him honestly and without thinking. Her eyes widened. and she let out a whoosh of breath. "I don't know what I feel, I just know I should have been there. And he didn't see the need to bring me. His ships last transmission was addressed to me. Not all of it came through... Just enough to make me realize he was aware enough of the end to maybe say something he never would have in a dozen lifetimes." Her hurt started to build up again and briefly she wondered if the need to expel all this agony would ever go away. She wiped at the sweat and tears on her cheek, and left a streak of bright red blood from her knuckles across her face. Her eyes looked to Verrin for some kind of lead. What came next? what did you do when the person who was hurting you was dead?

Description

--From a Star Wars RP--

He didn't understand - or maybe he did and was just pushing all the right buttons. Voska did as she was told, and hammered into the bag as fast and as hard as her fists would pummel. When she felt the skin over her knuckles begin to split and run slick with her own blood, she slammed her shoulder into the bag and threw all her weight into it. She listened to Verrin as her circled her. She responded to each word that left his lips and hit her heart with another violent strike against the bag. She could feel the burn in her legs, the sting in her elbows from throwing herself too hard into it. She gave a ferral smile at the pain, loving the way it hurt... loving the punishment and relishing in the physical distraction.

"Again," He told her and she happily obliged. Her heart listened to his words, but her head narrowed in on one thing. Busting this punching bag down from its chains and ripping it to shreads. He spoke of emotions, rights, desires, training, and strength. She listened to each without stopping, without relenting from her brute attack. The glow of his violet eyes circled her and caught the corner of her peripheral vision as he moved rhythmically around her.

"...We hate - not because that is all we have, but because we loved first. One cannot exist without the other - not in any real strength. The stronger our love, the stronger our hate....." there was a world in there that did more damage to her emotions than the one which should have. It wasn't the hatred that fueled her. It was the other thing... the one she was not supposed to feel, the one Valerian taught her was weak and useless. She screamed like a shrieking banshee and stepped back in one large movement. There wasn't enough air in here, and the air around her crackled with the force. She couldn't hold it out, and she didn't want to hold back. Still he continued to speak to her. "The stronger our emotions, the stronger our connection to the Dark Side of the Force, and the stronger we are. Let loose your rage - see it affect your strikes? Could you hit so hard without such feeling - such commitment?"

She glared at the inanimate punching bag as if it were her sworn enemy and her body filled to the brim with an itching kind of power that exceeded natural adrenaline. Suddenly she felt too far from the bag and held out her open palm pulling the bag to her. She willed it with one hard yank and the chains hanging the bag from the ceiling groaned against it. The chain at the top of the bag complained loudly then popped as the bag was ripped from its hinge and flew toward her. She embraced it with one arm as she twisted sideways and slammed it into the floor. The ground shuttered and the seam of the bag split. Seeing the innards didn't please her. It ticked her off. Insensibly, she wanted to relish its defeat as if it were a living, breathing, squirming thing. Which of course it was not. She turned back to Verrin, unsure what to do next.

"Tell me Voska. Tell me how you feel."

"I feel betrayed." she answered him honestly and without thinking. Her eyes widened. and she let out a whoosh of breath. "I don't know what I feel, I just know I should have been there. And he didn't see the need to bring me. His ships last transmission was addressed to me. Not all of it came through... Just enough to make me realize he was aware enough of the end to maybe say something he never would have in a dozen lifetimes." Her hurt started to build up again and briefly she wondered if the need to expel all this agony would ever go away. She wiped at the sweat and tears on her cheek, and left a streak of bright red blood from her knuckles across her face. Her eyes looked to Verrin for some kind of lead. What came next? what did you do when the person who was hurting you was dead?