The Salle, Friday Afternoon

[seeks_truth]

Cassandra had woken up with strange urges.

Not unfamiliar, but strange in their intensity.

She had lasted what portion of the day she could not spend elsewhere by thinking very hard about doing something else. Not something that involved the urges or anything related to them, mind you. Something far more cathartic and useful. Something she was, now that she had the time, at last capable of doing.

Within minutes of her arrival, the head of one dummy had gone soaring, slamming back against the wall. Cassandra gritted her teeth and lashed out again, this time leaving a long gauge in the dummy's arms. And then again. The third time, she kicked the dummy so hard it fell over, and she shoved her long blade straight into its chest.

She pulled it free with an angry hiss and turned towards the next dummy.

... the school could fund their replacement, surely?

[[ open! ]]

Comments

[seeks_truth]

Cassandra huffed, too, a peculiarly disgusted kind of huff she had long since mastered. "I would not hold my breath, if I were you."

And yet the hair-ruffling still looked appealing; it was just that now it functioned perfectly as another reason to be annoyed, which suited her much better than simple attraction.

[not_every_mage]

"It'll be fun trying," Anders said, knowing he was being maddening but feeling much more comfortable with it now that it was back to being something chosen. "But if neither of us is going to change our minds today..."

He backed off a bit more, looking to make a graceful exit before things got strange and intense again.