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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 22, 2007 22:33:55 GMT -5
I showed up on time, for once. I always found myself distracted, and with Elton's repeated absences, it was, more often then not, Leclerc who trained me. I yet had to start my tutelage under the Duchesse, but I wasn't complaining. The men of the D'Neige guard were good, experienced, and there was much to learn still from them.
The door was opened, and I made my way to the salle, my hat under my arm in military fashion. They were just starting to warm up, and I gingerly joined the ranks, practicing the silent moves with all the application I could muster.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Dec 22, 2007 22:39:31 GMT -5
After six months of constant, intense practice I was good enough, in most cases, to train on my own; still, Jaiden required I spent some time training with the soldiers, just for the sake of sparring and learning to fight in ranks. I wasn't meant to be common fighter, but there was a sense of 'go where you are needed' that meant I'd be sent where I was needed in a battlefield sort of experience.
A red-haired girl snuck in close to the beginning, but after a single curious look around to see it was an accustomed sight I let it go, and practice resumed. Warm-ups were short, and soon I knew people would be breaking off. A few of the younger warriors gave the girl a look of pure resentment, and I managed to hear talk of her being 'Elton's pet', which made me hide a grin.
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 22, 2007 22:45:38 GMT -5
As always, when I practice, alone or with partners, I summoned the silence. It came, bidden like faithful companion, and surrounded me. It was me, the blade, the movement. The clash of steel would come later, perhaps. For now, I let go all my concerns, all my troubles, and let myself fall to the peace of the practice.
There was a gaze on me, and it persisted. It wasn't Baptiste (that newt!) - his gaze slithered like a slug on a boring morning. No, that one was piercing and demanding, and I let my eyes seek it. Leclerc was eying me without much care, and I realized I'd been remiss. Good gods. I'd have to apologize, though it wasn't enough, likely.
I tried to resume my focus, but it was lost. This tension was unnerving, and so when he broke us off, I gave him a tentative smile. Right. Charming the master. Brilliant, and pointless. Can't blame a girl for trying, though.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Dec 22, 2007 22:57:19 GMT -5
Leclerc wasn't terribly happy with the girl, though she moved well- talent, as opposed to me, who was cleverness and very, very thorough training. I'd decided to specialize in using a short sword, rather like the Tiberians and Hellenes used to, and found it suited me- it left a hand free for a shield, or weapons of opportunity. Still, I wondered, and the girl approached Leclerc with what seemed to be an attempt at a sweet, charming smile. He wasn't phased.
This seemed to be getting interesting, and I drifted a bit closer, enough to here but not be in the way or prying. Since a few others were doing the same, I didn't stand out, except for my unscarred features and unbroken nose- and general attractiveness. My hair was down to my shoulders, still falling in perfect corkscrew curls, and bound back in a simple tail, and I rested my sword comfortably in my hand as I paid attention to my surroundings.
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 22, 2007 23:04:37 GMT -5
"So you've decided to finally grace us with your presence, Julie?" Leclerc needed not be loud to be heard, and he certainly didn't need to scream to have my attention. Or anyone else's, for that matter. "And what have you here, still that worthless piece of steel, don't you?" Now, that was a low blow. No-one speaks poorly of that sword, save Elton, because... I don't know, because he is Elton and he looks out for me.
"Well, I'm here now, My Lord, with what I have. If you have a better sword to give me, bring it along. Are we here to bicker, or to train?" The sharp words left my lips and I heard them as he did. I blushed, bit my tongue. Fast-talking Julie... I looked away, my gaze finding... I had to shake my head ever so slightly... no, not a Shahrizai, and not a Mandrake either, though he did have that grace about him...
"Look at me, young lady!" My head flicked back to Leclerc, and I whispered, "I'm sorry, sir, I won't be remiss anymore, I pledge it by my House and by Camael himself."
He didn't say anything, and tapped his finger. What in the world did he have in mind?
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Dec 22, 2007 23:17:27 GMT -5
Well, the girl was brave- especially considering the fact Leclerc was likely to pick her sparring partner, and there were men here who were veterans of a hundred battles. She'd be obliterated. Still, I didn't think Leclerc would do something so unnecessary- he had easier ways of making his point.
Her eyes caught mine and she seemed shaken for a moment- well, at least it wasn't scorn, which was nice. The other men snickered, and I ignored them; likely their response was pure jealousy. which meant she hadn't really given anyone else the time of day. Smart move on her part- too many lovers from the ranks and she move from apprentice to whore and camp-follower.
The Captain's eyes followed hers to me, and I could see him thinking. After a long moment of consideration, he gestured me over. "Julie, go wait in the sparring ring," he told her authoritatively, then waited for her to walk away before turning back to me. "She's a good girl, spirit and talent, but no discipline," he told me lowly, and I nodded. "If you would, I'd like you to see if you can push her a bit, give her things she doesn't expect."
Smiling and liking the challenge of it, but worried for a moment about becoming seen as one of the lackeys here I began to think. "Should have known the pretty boy wouldn't, too worried about his features," one of the eavesdroppers said with a snort, which caused my eyes to narrow. Damn my pride. "I'll do it," I told Leclerc, then walked into the ring myself. Until Leclerc gave the signal to begin I simply watched her, hoping to set off a sense of anxiety. My fighting was as much about my mind as my body. One of my hands was empty; in the other, I held my short sword.
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 22, 2007 23:25:55 GMT -5
He took too long to think - I didn't like that. But, eh, I'd earned it, no doubt. No matter what it was he set me up to, I'd take it. Besides, anyone who cut up my clothes like Gad did was likely to be torn to pieces for sheer virtue of my own anger. I had no hidden desire for any of them - and no shown want either. Baptiste had tried once, pinched my romp, he had. He had a cut to remember me by as well - that's why now, all he did was slither on my body with his google-like eyes, that frog-like thing of a man.
I nodded, and went decidedly to the sparring ring, getting ready in my own way, shaking shoulders and neck, watching my grip on my faithful steel. To my surprise, he sent over that... well, he was pretty. I wouldn't tell him, but he was. Gods, Julie, think with your sword, not your Namarrese blood. I shook it off. Besides, he looked a little like Louvel. Louvel, whom I was ready to gut on the side of the road for nigh destroying my lips, and that, without reason.
He was quiet, so was I. But I did smile - and it was a bit of a different smile. I was ready to fight.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Dec 22, 2007 23:31:56 GMT -5
She had passionate blood, this one- it showed in her stance and smile. A bit like Jaiden, except when Jaiden smiled you were going to die. I wasn't terribly concerned, but I was smart enough to be cautious.
"Make ready," Leclerc called, and I set my stance en garde, sword up but not intent on any particular action- likely I'd be able to set her into making the first move. "The men were right, you are a pretty little hellcat," I commented dryly, then smiled my best charming adept smile.
Off behind me I heard Leclerc call, "Begin".
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 22, 2007 23:36:16 GMT -5
A hellcat? Pretty? Little? I snorted as I took my stance, and moved swiftly, taking the first move on Leclerc's call. I heard some snickering around - gods, was the whole garrison watching us? I shut them out.
"I've never been called a cat before," I said as my blow left me, swift and well calculated, aimed straight for the ribcage. If Leclerc had picked him, he was to be safe, I assumed. Well, anyway. I'm not just a pretty thing for men's pleasure. I'd show him, if I could.
I was getting tired of just being a thing. I was also a warrior. Oh yes, I'd show them.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Dec 22, 2007 23:42:15 GMT -5
Chuckling, I dodged the blow, for now willing to wear her arms down until an opening under her guard presented itself. "You've been missing a lot of fun then," I replied nonchalantly, watching her still. "Don't tell me you've taken up the Cassiline's chaste habits just because you want to be a fighter. The rest of the groups don't seem to require that, last I checked."
She did show the ability to be driven into a temper, and I knew Leclerc was learning a good deal from that fact alone. "You know, I've often found that it IS true what they say about redheads- is it true in your case as well?"
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 22, 2007 23:49:42 GMT -5
Fast bastard! And with that, he talked to me rather nonchalantly about my... pubic hair? I didn't grace him with a look - my eyes were on his blade. But he was annoying, that was true enough.
"Maybe you'd like to be graced enough to find out for yourself, one of these days," I replied, fuming a little, circling him, waiting for my next opportunity. "Not that I'd offer it, anyway. You're much too delicate for my taste, I'd be afraid to break you," I hissed contemptibly.
Ah! So what if I had an active life in the bedchamber ! Like all of them, carousing Night's Doorstep, were acting the part of the Cassiline. His words beckoned a sour taste in my mouth. I took a stance, and made a beckoning gesture. "But maybe you're afraid too?" I spat. Ah. Such games could be played by both partners, no doubt.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Dec 22, 2007 23:58:45 GMT -5
"Delicate's good when one wants to be fast rather than a mere thug," I told her gently, as though breaking a horrible piece of news, watching her interestedly and following her easily as she circled, then stepped back. I didn't follow, not incited to any sort of action by her words. My entire life had been based on keeping control of my responses, no matter how much my pride stung; that's how one made steady profits rather than fast rises and spectacular losses.
For a moment I simply looked at her, then pretended to examine the nails on my free hand. "I can afford to stand here all day, waiting for you to get impatient," I told her impassively. "I'm already in the group, and I've already made a place for myself, and my point about you. Are you so scared of my words you can't even make an attempt?"
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 23, 2007 0:07:39 GMT -5
I think for a moment, my eyes popped out a little. What was this person? A dandee? His hands were impeccable, I could see it from where I stood in the gleam of his nail. Compared to mine, his hands were likely smooth like... an adept's? Huh. Interesting. I almost lost my stance - what was an adept doing here? Oh, likely, he was the whore of the house then, hence his easy comments about sexuality in a spar. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I almost laughed. I almost let go my anger then - for that matter, I liked adepts - and not only as bedmates. For that, I could forgive a great deal.
And then, he spoke.
This unknown, sad replica of a Shahrizai, this house-trained lackey, was pretending... oh, it was too rich. In the back of my mind, a little voice told me - just wait him out, be as patient as he. Talk him through. But he was annoying me, he was becoming not a person, as lovely as he may be, but like an itch that desperately needs to be scratched until it is maddening.
"Not scared," I foamed. "But starting to get mildly irritated," I lied. "And in need of no place to cut, save perhaps to carve something out of your hide, lackey."
With that, I charged, and aimed for his arm, not bother for care, or anyother consideration. I'd have his wrist for a luck token if I could.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Dec 23, 2007 0:24:26 GMT -5
My eyes flashed and I sidestepped her, bringing my blade up to block her blow as I stepped inside her guard; an easy thing to do, with a rage-blind opponent, really. Besides, her blow left her back wide open. "Think, don't just swing, sweetie," I chastised her, laying a light, slashing blow over her back, probably enough to scratch but not really wound her. After all, it was only a spar, and while she may have forgotten, I didn't.
After the blow I was easily turned to face her again, still behind her at the moment but out of easy strike range, knowing she'd move. She had some speed, and a good deal of strength, but her focus was still lacking. Still, teaching her was not exactly my area; it was finding her weak spots, her flaws, and playing the odds, as it had always been. I only had to make sure I didn't get cocky.
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 23, 2007 0:36:19 GMT -5
I think if I hadn't been in the middle of a spar, I would have sighed. As it were, breath left my lips in a calcutated outtake, then a calculated intake. He did hit my back. Silly me. Silly girl. Silly Julie. I could see, in my mind's eye, my big brother laughing, teasing me, telling me the Sparrow's hit was just as brittle as its nest. He had a point though.
Think. Think. Think. I focused on my breathing a moment, my eyes not leaving him, though for now, my assessment was that he would simply keep on avoiding my thrusts, and not make openings of his own. He was riding me like an ox in an Aragonian Corrida.
Don't charge. Think. Think. Think. He wad difficult to gauge. There was nothing emanating from him - for all I knew, I could have been fighting a golem of mud and steel.
I measured it with my eyes, and let my gaze caress his shape, seeking an opening. He was swift, that, I knew, from his prior dodges. I'd try something I hadn't done in a while, not since that spar on the glade with Ambre. I swapped to a single handed hold, exposing only my side, and made a jab at his shoulder. It cut on openings, but I would lose on range.
Nevertheless, I'd done just as the lackey said. Think, don't swing.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Dec 23, 2007 0:48:54 GMT -5
She switched to a one-handed grip and I smiled anew; such a sword could be wielded so, but it would tire her arm terribly. She did seem steady so far, but if she was missing as much practice as Leclerc seemed to indicate she'd not keep it for long. Probability dictated she'd be back to two-handed relatively soon.
Bringing my blade up with a quick flick I parried her blade, ducking under the rest of the blow and dodging the other direction. "Clever," I told her in an unimpressed tone. "A bit better. So, who's pet are you? Elton's? I didn't think he had it in him."
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 23, 2007 0:54:21 GMT -5
I kept a careful stance, exposing to him only my side, that which my sword-arm could protect if need be. I wasn't giving him any other opening if I could help it. He spoke again, and I had to shake it. Pet? "I'm nobody's pet, but Elton did bring me here, if that's what you ask." I replied, very matter-of-factly. I had no mind to let him talk rubbish of the man though - poor Elton. He had plenty to deal with as was, if I had guessed half of it from his wife's hold.
Was he suggesting? Nonsense. He could be my father, could he not? "Who's pet are you, then? It takes one to know one, doesn't it?" I circled him, waited for another opportunity. For now, I could keep a lid on it.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Dec 23, 2007 1:01:45 GMT -5
Everyone around laughed, and I smiled in response; my place was well-known, and it gave me problems at times, but not as many as if I'd tried to hide it. Riva had taught me the benefits to seeing the motives and kindnesses of others, as well as how to not exploit a weakness as soon as I saw it, and it had seemed to make my life easier on this side of things.
"You haven't been around much if you haven't heard of 'Lady Liatris's Whore'," I commented with an arrogant curl of my lip and small bow, followed with a graceful rise. "Don't I learn quick? I even managed to land a blow on an Amazon like yourself, though I admit you have more curves than I'd heard. Not many, but some."
Cocking my head sideways I asked innocently, "Have you had a chat with her yet? I hear she's absolutely enthused to meet females interested in her Lord."
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 24, 2007 15:44:50 GMT -5
Almost everything the lackey said was lost in the roaring laughters, but I heard enough to get the gist of it. He was her whore. He claimed I’d been discussed, or rather, my curves, or lack thereof. And then, he suggested I was Elton’s whore.
“It seems people talk more of me, than of you, then, if you’re so well informed,” I replied coldly. My hand was starting to blanch against the handle of the blade, but it grounded me. Besides, the stitches in my left hand was just the barest hint of something raw, just enough that when my fist clenched, a small touch of pain grounded me.
I hesitated. Did I want to dispel the idea that Elton perhaps had bedded me? I didn’t care enough about my reputation – and I gambled that if she had a spare bedmate, likely, he was allowed his own.
“The Snow Leopard and I can bicker on it, if and when the time comes. I serve the masters of House Liatris equally,” I replied quietly, very, very quietly. I was struggling to keep my control, because I feared what my hand would do if I set it loose. But I stood my ground, for now, and proudly, at that.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Dec 25, 2007 17:20:24 GMT -5
"To not be spoken of is to show respect, if the way you're mentioned is any indication," I said, letting my smile grow a little more chill as I noticed she was mostly still at this point, concentrating on her words rather than her attacks. If I did have allies in this fight, it would have been an excellent point to have them spring on her. She was guarded against me, but not her surroundings- a poor idea in a battlefield. The times Elton had someone surprise me from my weak side had taught me that.
"And the Lady Liatris doesn't bicker," I commented, remembering the horrible, twinging pain of broken ribs. "Ask anyone. If you want to see someone spoken of with complete respect, it would be her." The men around were murmuring to each other at Julie's overconfidence, to dare suggest that she could survive against their War Lady. "How do you expect to ever survive her if you can't even strike a whore like me?"
My stance was steady and my gaze watchful as I dropped the point of my sword the slightest bit, nearly an invitation to take a blow as I raised my free hand to my shirt ties and unlaced them. "It is getting a bit warm out here. You can undress too, if you'd like- I'm sure I won't be distracted." I was ready to dodge her at a moment's notice, for I had a feeling this would make her control slip. I'd taunted her skills, her confidence and her attractiveness, and I knew I wasn't going to come out of this bout without a few cuts and bruises- still, so long as I did my job, I would be content.
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Dec 31, 2007 17:14:14 GMT -5
He ranted, ranted, and at one point, my mind filler with the regular buzz of blood pumping in my ears, rather than his words. He took his shirt off, and I was almost surprised that it didn’t so anything to me. Was it that I had been overly sated, one way or another? Likely so – despite all the venom he could distill, I was well loved, very well loved, and at that particular point in time, no matter how handsome he was, his body seemed to me no more than a piece of meat that could, should, be hacked.
I didn’t say anything, I didn’t move immediately, but imperceptibly, I braced, until I felt my sword was a direct extension of my arm, my own flesh turned to steel, my will bent to metal.
I raised it, and I struck, methodically, wordlessly, intently. It didn’t matter much what he thought, I decided, but I couldn’t let word get out that Elton’s pet, if that’s what I was, couldn’t handle a sword. Even if it were false, which it was, it didn’t please me that my protector be slighted by such a rumor. And so I struck, and struck, seeking the openings, until he faltered. This was a duel, not a battlefield, there were not other opponents to contend with, and so the little whore got all my attention, and more. Eventually, I would hit my mark – I had trained too much to miss continually.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Jan 1, 2008 23:26:32 GMT -5
Her strikes were strong, and there were a couple times I had to parry carefully, but there were some flaws. Her arm was strong, and her eyes showed focus on her target- but her methods were sloppy, and I managed to get away with little more than a sore arm and some faint scrapes. Still, I was in good condition, and I could tell the girl wouldn't be content until some major blood flowed.
My senses were trained on the fight, but I was also planning defenses, watching the openings she left and learning patterns. This swing left her balance there; this one was slower to close a gap so she could bring her sword up and block. I waited for the right time, then quickly ducked and gathered some of the loose sand in my hand, holding it carefully in my fist. I only needed a little.
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Jan 2, 2008 13:47:46 GMT -5
Not letting down, I continued my hits. I didn’t even fell the faintest hint of fatigue as my body worked, and worked, and worked, pushing him. There were clings of steel, music to my ears, but he didn’t counter attack, and he didn’t flinch. He had to have flaws, I thought, it’s impossible to be so perfect, something has to give.
It was like dueling an inanimate object that felt no emotion whatsoever. And he looked like Louvel – but oh, the difference. If the defunct Mandrake had shown that a world of feeling populated him, making him direly touching, the Leopard’s Whore was showing nothing but cold replique. For the first time in my life, I looked at another human, and thought, were he dead, it would not matter. He is already dead inside.
I didn’t quite want to kill him. But suddenly, where my blows held a shudder of a hesitation for hurting a sparring mate, they suddenly became intent and less concerned. I had no care about hurting him, or not.
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Post by Aleron Carle(Retired) on Jan 3, 2008 19:23:15 GMT -5
Like Jaiden before, the change in her demeanor was slight, but significant. Gone was the concern for another human being- perhaps in her mind I had become simply a practice dummy, or a hated enemy, though the idea of the girl even perceiving she had one seemed unlikely. It was a killing look, and I recalled it well as my own eyes narrowed and my concentration shifted as deadly serious as her own.
My moment of contemplation, though, had already cost me, and my timing was off; before I could parry effectively with her heavier sword and longer reach I felt the blade cut into my arm and shouted in pain and surprise as my eyes widened for a moment; blood poured off of me from the slash, which opened a cut in my arm just shy of the bone and diagonal to the smallest, pointing toward my body. Instinctively I cast the dirt I held in my free hand at her face, then curled it back into a fist and swung hard at the side of her head, toward her temple. There was a part of me that wished I held a dagger as I did, but that was easily stuffed aside.
My blow was calculated, hard and precise, and I had no doubts she would stumble, dazed, but I didn't wait to see. With a grimace of pain I turned on my heel and walked out of the ring, sword set gently aside as I made my way toward the company medic. Likely he'd only slow the bleeding and send me on to a physician, or Balm if I was lucky, but being part of the house meant following the order of rank. All I wanted was to get this patched, deaden the pain and go back to work. I only hoped Riva wouldn't worry.
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Post by Julie Deveroix (D) on Jan 3, 2008 19:37:27 GMT -5
There was a shout, and before I could quite let my eyes off his blade and up his arm to notice the trickle of blood, something flew in my face. Instinctively, my eyes closed, but something got in. Sand. The bastard had sand in his spare hand, and I’d never seen it gathered. So much for my darting eyes – they’d done me no good.
Lead, or was it something else, hit me almost immediately after. So that’s what a fist feels like, I thought as my inner vision blurred. Blinded, I staggered, feeling for the second time in months as though I’d gotten onboard rocky seas, but this wasn’t from a breathtaking kiss. His blow left me disoriented, and I squinted, an eye tearing for the grain of sand lodged in it. Where was he?
For a moment, I looked aghast around the ring. Empty. He had plenty of time to out do me, with the blinding, the pounding. I shook my head, trying to get my bearings, and dropped the sword dumbly. I’d landed a blow, but I was as good as dead, I figured.
Wearily, I stepped out of the ring. Leclerc said nothing, merely shaking his head.
“What was his name, Sir?” I asked, trying to contain the strange mixed emotions that filled me.
“Aleron,” he replied sternly. “Aleron no Liatris.”
I nodded, stayed quiet for a moment. “Go home,” he said after a while. “And be on time tomorrow.”
“I will,” I replied under my breath. “And I won’t forget today.”
Strangely, I didn’t feel like going anywhere. I had a headache, pounding right behind my left eye. Still, obediently, I left the practice room, ignoring the gazes that followed me. Fitting in wasn’t going to be an easy affair.
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