Striking looks
Presence
Transform self from previous post
Walking out on her backyard to set up three humanoid wooden targets, beginning with placing a cover atop of them, making sure its there tightly, striking at it a few times to make sure it would not come undone under pressure, adjust and sorting it until it sits just right upon all three of her targets before grabbing her practice knife, tossing it back and forth between her hands, feeling its weight. Placing some powder upon the knife and hitting it against the bottom of one of her targets to see that the powder would stick without issue.
Nodding and taking a deep breath, focusing her all before unleashing a torrent of rapid strikes against the first target, trying to count her strikes as close to 100 as possible before stopping with a panting sensation, muscles a bit tired as she grabs a bottle of water and sits down for a few minutes to let her muscles naturally recover, not wanting to just let the fatigue disappear, wanting to feel it in full.
Jumping back up and reapplying a new set of powder upon the training knife, as she sees the sight before her to make her skills rapidly improve, her muscles moving in precise striking moments.
2 successes
Then repeating the process of lashing out a plethora of strikes upon the second target, once more trying to count to roughly 100 strikes, sensing the difference in the movements from the first target. Taking a step back, and replacing the cover upon the second target, then going back to lash out another flurry of strikes, repeating this process again, and again, and again, letting the hours pass, the sun raising and beginning its decent without issue as cover placed in a precise manner according to the last gets replaced time and again, the knife filled with new powder over and over until seeing her covers nearly having run out, and the powder dangling at the last vestiges of energy.
Sitting down to take a bit longer break, letting her enhancement go, her skills dropping back to normal just moments before flying onto the last target, imitating the training she had spent hours upon hours on already, trying to hold unto the movements, to the fluidity, to make her muscles remember the difference between her initial target, and the countless attacks upon the secondary target, falling back upon the grass with a heavy gasping as the 100th strike lands, sore and weary, just lying there for a few minutes until finally getting back up, taking the covers she had used whilst enhancing herself to compare her attacks against the first, massive amount of middle and last one, trying to discern the difference between before and after, not really sure if she had improved that much, but at least seeing some parts that were slightly closer to the middle, if by chance or a beginning result harder to tell, guess she would know once she had repeated this process a few dozen times or more. Hoping that her muscles would slowly adapt to improve, to make the strikes more intuitional.
Taking a picture of each cover, rinsing them of from the powder, hanging them to try followed by getting inside to find something to eat and go lie down in her hammock, not sure if it was late enough for sleep yet but she could certainly go for a nap after some food and maybe a shower.
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