☆ combat room

@PP. | Chris Evans Minyoung has got to the combat room just before her teacher had finished, and instead of speaking up, she watched in silence, mouthing a curse to herself as the punching bag flew across the room from the repetitive force of him hitting it. Thinking to herself, she’d shifted her weight between her feet and one of the floorboards had creaked, announcing her presence.

“Hi Mr. Evans.” she started before sighing as she began to speak about why she was really there. “Well, you know how you’re the combat and self defense teacher, I was hoping to see if it would be possible to get some extra lessons on that, even if just a couple?” she asked as she tilted her head as she spoke. “I know that my abilities don’t really help with any form of combat when whoever the bad guy or whatever isn’t using any kinda of attacks that I can absorb, and I’d really like to be able to still hold my own and not become a hinderance or anything like that.”

Minyoung waited to see how the man would respond, her hands clasped in front of her as she did so, her eyes moving between the man and the broken punching bag.

@Kim Minyoung One of the main perks about the combat room was that it was a combination of a gym and a dojo. It had everything that was related to self defence, training ones body and mind, and learning to how focus and enhance ones abilities. It was here that a teacher or student could usually find Chris, training for hours with the equipment here rather than at the normal gym offered by the academy; because it was here that you could find punching bags and weights that went beyond the typical 25 kgs. Here, you could find weight plates of up to 3,000 kg and they weren't even the heaviest. And as usual, after official class hours were over, Chris had stayed behind to train for himself.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!"

Each punch that landed was accompanied with a huff of exertion. The punching bag in use was one of the more robust, a heavy mix of sand and concrete, perfect for practicing control over his strength. Being in the dojo was where he felt most in control, the most calm, because he knew that this was his space. But.. sometimes it was too quiet, when the training just wasn't enough and each thump from the punching bag sent him deeper and deeper into his thoughts.

Punch. Sand. Upper cut. A crying, bloodied face. Another punch. A pile of bodies that he caused.

He grit his teeth, not seeing the punching bag as he hit harder, faster, until the chains couldn't take anymore, and he finally landed a punch that sent the bag flying across the room. Chris stared at the punching bag on the floor, watching the concrete granules slowly seep out, wiping off the sweat from his forehead. "Awesome, gotta get a new bag now" He grumbled, making his way over a bench, picking up a bottle of water and sipping from it. A noise caught his attention, and he jerked towards the dojo wall; is body still tense from the workout. He relaxed once he saw that it was a student and cleared his throat.

"Hey there, what can I do for you?"

╱╲ first post in mine mwahaha ╱╲