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legionworld2016-04-03 07:57 pm
notwithoutafight) wrote in legionworld2016-04-03 07:57 pm
only a week and she's already been here too long
Who| Videl & Open
What| Being new and finally free from the med bay
Where| Training Gym OR Mess Hall
When| Daytime
Warnings/Notes| Varying levels of hostility from Videl
A. Training Gym
Videl had been laying into a punching bag in the training gym for the better part of an hour, working through the mess of problems that had been cluttering up her mind over the past week since her arrival. A week interned in the Med Bay was enough to test anyone’s patience, but Videl reached her limits in only a matter of days. It was Officer Erin who, noticing how tense Videl seemed during her swearing-in, had suggested the girl find an outlet for her feelings. Vocalizing those feelings in a message recorded for the future hadn’t brought Videl the kind of closure intended, so a different approach was clearly needed. For Videl, that meant training.
Training had been Videl’s go-to method for working through her emotions ever since she was four years old, when her mother died. Back then, people were constantly crowding her, peppering her with questions about how she felt and ‘if you ever need to talk, I’m here’ -assurances. But Videl didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to be coddled. She didn’t want platitudes. She wanted her mom, and if she couldn’t have her mom, she wanted to fight the person who took her mom away.
That was what prompted Mr. Satan to teach his daughter how to use a punching bag. ‘When using words doesn’t help you get all the hurt out,’ he explained, ‘you can use your fists, like this.’ The older Videl got, the harder it became to expel negative feelings with words, and the punching bag in the family gym became the recipient of a great many upsets.
A punching bag in the Legion World training gym had been “listening” to Videl’s problems for about an hour now. Sweaty and winded, Videl steadied the swinging bag, then plopped down on a bench to catch her breath.
B. Mess Hall
Videl sat at a table by herself, working her way through her second large plate of okonomiyaki, frowning at her Legion ring and where it lay on the table beside her drink. In spite of how things appeared, it wasn’t the right that was bothering Videl; it was its power to bestow flight.
Or, more specifically, how it allowed her to fly.
Flight itself was not special to Videl; not anymore. It hadn’t been for the past few months, since Gohan had taught her how to do it. Videl had practiced every day since then, every moment she had spare time. She flew everywhere she needed to go, even long distances when she should have taken her helicopter. She practiced hovering at different heights while she did her homework. She even tried to incorporate it into her training, to mixed results. But ever since she got to the Legion world, she couldn’t lift so much as an inch off the ground, even with all of her concentration. Unless she used the ring.
Videl put her chopsticks down and pushed her plate out of the way, making room for her to put both hands on the table. What was it Gohan said when he first taught her about ki? Something about drawing it out of yourself? She turned her palms toward each other, about twelve inches apart, as Gohan had showed her. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the noise and bustle around her and just focus on her own breathing.
What| Being new and finally free from the med bay
Where| Training Gym OR Mess Hall
When| Daytime
Warnings/Notes| Varying levels of hostility from Videl
A. Training Gym
Videl had been laying into a punching bag in the training gym for the better part of an hour, working through the mess of problems that had been cluttering up her mind over the past week since her arrival. A week interned in the Med Bay was enough to test anyone’s patience, but Videl reached her limits in only a matter of days. It was Officer Erin who, noticing how tense Videl seemed during her swearing-in, had suggested the girl find an outlet for her feelings. Vocalizing those feelings in a message recorded for the future hadn’t brought Videl the kind of closure intended, so a different approach was clearly needed. For Videl, that meant training.
Training had been Videl’s go-to method for working through her emotions ever since she was four years old, when her mother died. Back then, people were constantly crowding her, peppering her with questions about how she felt and ‘if you ever need to talk, I’m here’ -assurances. But Videl didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to be coddled. She didn’t want platitudes. She wanted her mom, and if she couldn’t have her mom, she wanted to fight the person who took her mom away.
That was what prompted Mr. Satan to teach his daughter how to use a punching bag. ‘When using words doesn’t help you get all the hurt out,’ he explained, ‘you can use your fists, like this.’ The older Videl got, the harder it became to expel negative feelings with words, and the punching bag in the family gym became the recipient of a great many upsets.
A punching bag in the Legion World training gym had been “listening” to Videl’s problems for about an hour now. Sweaty and winded, Videl steadied the swinging bag, then plopped down on a bench to catch her breath.
B. Mess Hall
Videl sat at a table by herself, working her way through her second large plate of okonomiyaki, frowning at her Legion ring and where it lay on the table beside her drink. In spite of how things appeared, it wasn’t the right that was bothering Videl; it was its power to bestow flight.
Or, more specifically, how it allowed her to fly.
Flight itself was not special to Videl; not anymore. It hadn’t been for the past few months, since Gohan had taught her how to do it. Videl had practiced every day since then, every moment she had spare time. She flew everywhere she needed to go, even long distances when she should have taken her helicopter. She practiced hovering at different heights while she did her homework. She even tried to incorporate it into her training, to mixed results. But ever since she got to the Legion world, she couldn’t lift so much as an inch off the ground, even with all of her concentration. Unless she used the ring.
Videl put her chopsticks down and pushed her plate out of the way, making room for her to put both hands on the table. What was it Gohan said when he first taught her about ki? Something about drawing it out of yourself? She turned her palms toward each other, about twelve inches apart, as Gohan had showed her. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the noise and bustle around her and just focus on her own breathing.
no subject
“Well, I'd suggest training your ki just in case, but it looks like that's not going to be possible,” Videl offered unhelpfully in answer.
She picked up her ring and held it close to her face between two fingers, examining it dubiously. It didn't seem to have an ‘on’ button or any sort of controls, or look particularly special in the first place. Videl was picking up Gwen’s skepticism about the ring’s reliability.
“I guess if it craps out in the middle of the air, you could always sue the Legion for endangerment or something,” she offered.
no subject
"I'll be sure to do that from the comfort of the medbay as I recover from having every bone in my body broken." Overreacting much? Definitely. Plus one had to believe that they had the technology to fix up someone suffering from body-wide bone fractures.
"You know, that's assuming I'm even still conscious and can think through the excruciating pain."
Still overreacting...
no subject
"Broken bones aren't that bad, as long as they don't puncture any of your internal organs," Videl offered matter-of-factly. Having broken most every bone in her body at least once since childhood, she rather figured she was an expert on the subject.
"But if you pass out, you can probably still press charges after you regain consciousness," she mused, tilting her head up as she contemplated the U. P.'s judicial system. "Unless they have really stupid statutes of limitations here." She shrugged. "You usually learn these things pretty fast when you work with the police."
no subject
"I'm more the type to get stuck working minimum-wage at a grocery store while I try to fulfill my dream of being a famous drummer."
Just... don't ask her how famous she actually was. That part was still a work in progress.