((soundtrack, pirates of the carabbean, location, Atlas Park appartment building. Insert yourself however you like!))
Eric looked over the living room of the apartment. Re-arranging it the way it was before would be simple. It had only taken him 30 minutes to arrange it the way it was now. He had jotted down the exact position of every item of furniture in the room in his sketch pad. Now, the room was empty, the wooden floor barren, except for the cd player and speakers along one wall.
Normally, this was movie night. But with Terra stressed and over taxed, and staying at Oksahs no one had shown up. This had disappointed Eric a bit, but he would never let on. However, un-opened bags of chips and several cans of various salsas and dips showed his true hopes. In the quiet of the apartment, his thoughts echoed loudly.
Thanks to the conditions of his release, he found himself home often in the evenings. His trip to the park had been quite relaxing, but it would never become routine for the ninja. Eric was only allowed to do three missions a day, and none of them could be against Crey personel. He was not allowed to do any street patrolling. This left him quite energetic and restless. He needed to do something about that.
Smiling grimly, thinking about oksahs words, he slipped the cd adorned by a mascaraed Johnny Depp into the tray, and hit play. A lone string instrument sung out, probably a viola or maybe a chelo, as he took up his place in the middle of the room with a wooden practice sword. As low woodwinds took up the haunting melody, he focused his senses, letting his awareness build and sharpen with the crecendo of the score. Then, as it fell into its reprieve, eric flowed into a defensive back stance, the sword at high guard.
Then, as the martial theme picked up its tempo, he began to circle an imaginary foe, his eyes focused. He even saluted with his sword, as he had seen some of the western swordsmen do, before falling into a series of strikes in time to the music. As the theme turned dark and foreboding, Eric closed his eyes, moving in a measure of cross steps, around a central point in the room, slowly blocking and striking. As the tempo of the music quickened so did his movements, until he was a spinning blur of blocks feints and strikes, moving at twice the tempo of the music.
Suddenly the music fell quiet and brooding, and Eric assumed a kneeling position. In his mind, he was high atop a skyscraper. Bellow him, two people fought for their lives against a girl much more powerful than them. As the music built again, Eric leapt off the floor into a series of spins that brought him inches from the ceiling, and parallel to the floor. He twisted his motions into a strike that arced wide, encompassing the space around him for seven feet.
Eric landed, kneeling in the middle of the room, a look of intense focus on his face, his eyes closed.
((soundtrack, pirates of the carabbean, location, Atlas Park appartment building. Insert yourself however you like!))
Eric looked over the living room of the apartment. Re-arranging it the way it was before would be simple. It had only taken him 30 minutes to arrange it the way it was now. He had jotted down the exact position of every item of furniture in the room in his sketch pad. Now, the room was empty, the wooden floor barren, except for the cd player and speakers along one wall.
Normally, this was movie night. But with Terra stressed and over taxed, and staying at Oksahs no one had shown up. This had disappointed Eric a bit, but he would never let on. However, un-opened bags of chips and several cans of various salsas and dips showed his true hopes. In the quiet of the apartment, his thoughts echoed loudly.
Thanks to the conditions of his release, he found himself home often in the evenings. His trip to the park had been quite relaxing, but it would never become routine for the ninja. Eric was only allowed to do three missions a day, and none of them could be against Crey personel. He was not allowed to do any street patrolling. This left him quite energetic and restless. He needed to do something about that.
Smiling grimly, thinking about oksahs words, he slipped the cd adorned by a mascaraed Johnny Depp into the tray, and hit play. A lone string instrument sung out, probably a viola or maybe a chelo, as he took up his place in the middle of the room with a wooden practice sword. As low woodwinds took up the haunting melody, he focused his senses, letting his awareness build and sharpen with the crecendo of the score. Then, as it fell into its reprieve, eric flowed into a defensive back stance, the sword at high guard.
Then, as the martial theme picked up its tempo, he began to circle an imaginary foe, his eyes focused. He even saluted with his sword, as he had seen some of the western swordsmen do, before falling into a series of strikes in time to the music. As the theme turned dark and foreboding, Eric closed his eyes, moving in a measure of cross steps, around a central point in the room, slowly blocking and striking. As the tempo of the music quickened so did his movements, until he was a spinning blur of blocks feints and strikes, moving at twice the tempo of the music.
Suddenly the music fell quiet and brooding, and Eric assumed a kneeling position. In his mind, he was high atop a skyscraper. Bellow him, two people fought for their lives against a girl much more powerful than them. As the music built again, Eric leapt off the floor into a series of spins that brought him inches from the ceiling, and parallel to the floor. He twisted his motions into a strike that arced wide, encompassing the space around him for seven feet.
Eric landed, kneeling in the middle of the room, a look of intense focus on his face, his eyes closed.