Post by TEMPEST JORDAN WALTERS on Apr 17, 2012 23:36:31 GMT -5
686, ELLIE, MID APRIL, OUTFIT [/style] [STYLE=width: 400px; text-align: justify; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; line-height: 10px; padding: 5px;]after sitting crossed legged on the grass for what had seemed like an hour—though it was only a half; tempest wasn’t very good at judging time—the small red haired girl made her way to her feet. she walked a few feet over to where a line of large, circular targets were set up, each colored ring beginning to fade from wear and tear. she stood, her legs a little more than hip-width apart, her knees slightly bent, body perpendicular to one of the targets. she pressed her hands together in front of her chest, inhaling air deeply through her nose, and exhaling it from her mouth, her tongue pressed against her teeth to make a slight hissing noise to release the air. this kind of concentration was so important to tempest. it was this meditative state that allowed her to step outside of herself, to observe the physicality of her movement without a mental hindrance. it was far too difficult to try and manipulate the electric currents in the air around her without clearing her mind first. one wrong thought, one stressful moment and the current could build up to extreme amounts, radiating throughout her body and expelled in all different directions. it had only happened once, in the middle of a storm on the sports fields of her local high school back in california. she had taken time away from home, the mess of paint over her father’s workroom suggesting that he had missed yet another deadline. this was the last thing she needed. so she walked a few miles away, somewhere open and calm. but with clouds swirling violently overhead and the sky cracking, her hands had twitched at the idea of harnessing that power for herself. but the anger that had set into her center blocked any kind of good and healthy energy that needed to flow through herself to control the lightning. instead, it crashed against her insides, sending her flying backwards, limbs twitching and thrashing about, veins electric under her skin, filled with the power of the storm. she lay there, in the middle of those fields, those miles from home, and she was silent. she was the silence she had feared with rain streaming down around her, mixing with her even quicker falling tears. her body didn’t hurt, as much as she wanted it to. she needed to feel that. instead, she barely felt the soaking earth beneath her feet as she trudged back home, scolded the minute she walked in the door for her wet shoes on the new hardwood flooring. but she was here to make sure that never happened again. she was at this school, in front of these targets to ensure that, no matter what, she couldn’t hurt herself or anyone else. she looked down at her feet, the stance not feeling quite as strong. after kicking off her shoes and sliding off her socks, she wiggled her toes into the grass, a small smile itching at the corner of her lips. knees bent, hands pressed, air flowing in and hissing out. she closed her eyes, hands falling to her sides before quickly focusing the energy on her first two fingers of each hand. she shot out her left arm and then her right arm towards the target, her feet pushing her weight into the grass. bolts of bright blue and gold were spun from her fingers and into the target, the first hit left of center, the second right on target. hitting a target wasn’t ever an issue for tempest; it was making sure the power came from serenity instead of anger. she walked over to the target to examine her work, to see the burns across the fabric stretched across the target. as the same fingers that channeled the lightning grazed over the blackened fabric, she heard movement behind her. she turned around slowly, teeth lightly chewing at her bottom lip. had someone seen that? had they thought she was dangerous? “hello?” she called out, eyes darting to catch who was there, nerves making her eyes blink rapidly as they scanned. |