- Invitation Status
- Not accepting invites at this time
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- I have Thursdays off between two jobs. I am usually available on Wednesdays and Sundays, too. I will usually respond in the evenings, if I can, on the days I work.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Fantasy, Romance, Medieval, Futuristic, Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Modern, Action, Adventure, some High-Fantasy, Lord of the Rings, Pacific Rim, King Arthur, anything Game of Thrones-esque
"Well, you're a scrap of a thing, aren't you?"
Summer crossed her arms, mirroring the large, muscular man with an army-close haircut in front of her. Kilborn's voice was deep, commanding as his presence and he looked down at the woman with a judging eye - and it would take courage, perseverance and skill to make those eyes approving. Summer sensed all this instantly and rather than be upset by it, she saw a challenge and determined fire bubbled up in her veins. She didn't defend herself, her size or the way she looked. That wouldn't impress this man.
No, actions would speak louder than words here, but only the right ones so she remained silent, waiting.
They were in a separate courtyard-type place within the wall, but sectioned off from the places like Targas' workshop in the main courtyard. This was the training area, the combat ring and this is where her testing would be done. Summer noted that they'd gathered an audience - hadn't Targas said something about her being the newest recruit in a while? - and the woman studiously ignored them, focused solely on her assessor.
"I have heard you have some enhanced hearing, Scrapper. Let's see for ourselves, shall we?"
Summer merely nodded and let him wrap a blindfold around her eyes, listening as he walked away. She was alone in the ring now and having some idea of what was coming, she steadied her breathing and calmed her body, techniques she'd picked up long before the apocalypse started. She was centered, alert when the first shot was fired and judging by the sound, Summer knew it was a BB gun they used.
Well, at least I know they don't want to kill me.
It was a quick thought, as quick as her movements as Summer avoided the round with ease and then another and another. They started getting interested then, she could tell, as more than one gun now fired and like a contortionist, the auburn-haired woman avoided being hit, sometimes narrowly, but she did. It almost obvious that she had the body of a dancer, all slender grace and light movements and it served her well.
Summer crossed her arms, mirroring the large, muscular man with an army-close haircut in front of her. Kilborn's voice was deep, commanding as his presence and he looked down at the woman with a judging eye - and it would take courage, perseverance and skill to make those eyes approving. Summer sensed all this instantly and rather than be upset by it, she saw a challenge and determined fire bubbled up in her veins. She didn't defend herself, her size or the way she looked. That wouldn't impress this man.
No, actions would speak louder than words here, but only the right ones so she remained silent, waiting.
They were in a separate courtyard-type place within the wall, but sectioned off from the places like Targas' workshop in the main courtyard. This was the training area, the combat ring and this is where her testing would be done. Summer noted that they'd gathered an audience - hadn't Targas said something about her being the newest recruit in a while? - and the woman studiously ignored them, focused solely on her assessor.
"I have heard you have some enhanced hearing, Scrapper. Let's see for ourselves, shall we?"
Summer merely nodded and let him wrap a blindfold around her eyes, listening as he walked away. She was alone in the ring now and having some idea of what was coming, she steadied her breathing and calmed her body, techniques she'd picked up long before the apocalypse started. She was centered, alert when the first shot was fired and judging by the sound, Summer knew it was a BB gun they used.
Well, at least I know they don't want to kill me.
It was a quick thought, as quick as her movements as Summer avoided the round with ease and then another and another. They started getting interested then, she could tell, as more than one gun now fired and like a contortionist, the auburn-haired woman avoided being hit, sometimes narrowly, but she did. It almost obvious that she had the body of a dancer, all slender grace and light movements and it served her well.