[attr="class","gunstest1text"]



Zelle turned to Aurelie Lefevre, her gaze absorbing the apparent proprietor's appearance. The eyepatch was interesting, to be sure, but even more interesting was the unfinished sword in the redheaded woman's hand.
[break][break]
Zelle felt her lips curl up at the edges. "It's nice to meet you, Aurelie." Her posture straightened as she cocked her head to the side, ready to make conversation with someone useful.
[break][break]
"I want to buy a sword," she said. Tilting her head towards the display case, she said, "I like your blades. I was going to inquire as to whether swords fell under your forging abilities, and I'm happy to see that it does."
[break][break]
The sword, at first glance, was incredible, like the rest of the wares in the shop. The pommel was well-shaped and the leaf-like blade, although not quite her preferred style, was beautifully made. Zelle reflexively placed a hand on her hip where her scabbard belt usually was; she was off-duty and in civilian clothes, so she wasn't carrying her preferred broadsword. It was at her home in Fallarbor, leaned against her desk.
[break][break]
She flexed her hand instead, running her thumb over her calluses. "May I take a look at that one?" she inquired politely, gesturing to the unfinished blade in Aurelie's hand.

[break]

[attr="class","gunstest1ooc"][break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Putting on a Front

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]



After her last successful capture, Giselle Sigebrand was anticipating the results of her next Pokemon hunt in the wild. This time, the new Pokemon from the capture in question was accompanying her, a Houndoom she had named Midnight.
[break][break]
As they trekked the trails of Route 112 which were fast becoming familiar to her (and her sore calves), they passed a particularly forested area. Perhaps there she would find her next Pokemon.
[break][break]
"Midnight, surveil the forest and report back." The Houndoom barked in confirmation and trotted off briskly to obey.

[break]

[attr="class","gunstest1ooc"][break]

NOTES

+ Solo Wild: Fire/Fighting

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]





Giselle Sigebrand's mind devolved into a mess of static and expletives as Gunner Graves approached. She didn't even register the exchange between him and the instructor, but when her brain flipped into fast-forward mode to process what was happening, it was already too late.
[break][break]
"So. You can't say thanks, and you can't swim either. Anything else I should know before we begin?"
[break][break]
Zelle bristled. "Thanks for what? I could have broken my neck when you 'helped' me down." She hadn't been expecting anyone to provide a trampoline or anything, but maybe a gentler hand down would have been nice.
[break][break]
But she should have known better than to expect nice. From anyone. That was an expectation that could get her killed when she was younger, and for the future, in the field.
[break][break]
She stubbornly dog-paddled a few feet, scooping at the water with two cupped raptor hands to move forward. She ended up spluttering on a mouthful of water as her paddling technique failed to keep her above the surface.
[break][break]
Scrabbling at the grey-stone edge of the pool, she glared mutinously at Gunner's shoes. "Just... Tell me how to get across this fucking pool."


[break]

[attr="class","gunstest1ooc"][break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Boot Camp

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]



Giselle Sigebrand was in Lilycove City between Interpol assignments, taking the initiative to patrol in hopes of finding rumors of illicit Rocket activity. A seaside city surely had means of transport for illegal and dangerous goods, probably even for trafficking Pokemon.
[break][break]
Her Houndoom Midnight trotted obediently beside her, sniffing at lamp posts and fragrant flowering bushes curiously. There were bread rolls baking, fritters frying, sea salt in the air--Lilycove was a portrait of rustic seaside aesthetic, with driftwood and shells adorning several shop fronts. Then she realized she was in the tourist district's shopping center, so everything was probably played up for the sake of squeezing money out of sightseeing foot traffic--those in want of useless memorabilia and sentimental baubles.
[break][break]
She rolled her eyes at a gift shop's driftwood sign burned with the words, "LIVE, SURF, LOVE." Turning away, her gaze happened to fall on a cast metal sign outside one shop, the Iron Lady Forge.
[break][break]
A forge? Interesting. Zelle rubbed her thumb over the calluses of one hand. Her old sword was getting a bit dull; it was due for professional sharpening, and maybe she needed a new sword while she sent it out for maintenance.
[break][break]
Her mouth set into an unconscious frown, Zelle entered, her attention wandering. The dark red carpet under her feet was welcoming, leading her through a sparse display of glass cases with the shop's featured wares. She stopped by the utility knives, eyeing them curiously. Midnight whined at her feet, clearly bored, sniffing disinterestedly at the base of the display case.

[break]

[attr="class","gunstest1ooc"][break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Putting on a Front

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]






"Don't--"
[break][break]
Zelle screamed as she plunged headfirst into the mud, drenching her hair, face, and clothes.
[break][break]
"Fuck you," she spat out when she emerged, trying to wipe mud off her lips, unsuccessfully as her hands were caked in the disgusting mix as well. "I didn't ask for your help."
[break][break]
She stood up and did her best to slide the sludge off her arms, then eyed Gunner Graves with rampant distaste and trudged towards the showers, slinging more globs of mud onto the grass every few feet.
[break][break]
She seethed, daring anyone who made eye contact to talk to her, deadly daggers flying from her glare.
[break][break]

---

[break][break]
The next day, she was aching all over, especially her ego. If she didn't have to see that smug jerk Graves' face for the rest of her life, it would still be too soon. On top of that, she was sorely dreading the swim class again.
[break][break]
She got to the pool early, jumping in the water and hoping she could miraculously improve in the next forty-five minutes before the repeat swim test.
[break][break]
"Miss Sigebrand." Her least favorite boot camp instructor greeted her in the middle of a dog-paddling "lap." "Have you made any progress with your swimming?"
[break][break]
"Yes," she said. She attempted a couple of freestyle strokes that appeared more like a Magikarp splashing aimlessly.
[break][break]
"I see," the instructor replied drily. "Your exam is moved to tomorrow. Luckily for you, there's a partner system built into the program. Make use of him."
[break][break]
Him? Zelle's eyes widened in pissed-off disbelief as the instructor barked, "GRAVES. COME HERE."


[break]

[attr="class","gunstest1ooc"][break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Boot Camp

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]






As Giselle Sigebrand dove to roll across the web of rope, she found herself hurtling like a barrel down the uneven slope. Suddenly, she felt her body switch on a dime from motion to motionless.
[break][break]
She gave an undignified scream as her ankle caught in a loop of rope, the residual momentum swinging her through a large diamond-shaped space in the web. The loop held fast, dangling her upside down by the ankle over the muddy pool below.
[break][break]
"WHAT THE HELL," she demanded of the world.
[break][break]
She had it. She had it! What happened to her! Her run was perfect!
[break][break]
Zelle heard distant cheers of encouragement from the direction of the finish line. She bitterly presumed it was for her partner, Gunner Graves.
[break][break]
She yelled wordlessly in frustration, scrunching her eyes shut. Then, she tightened her abs into a crunch and tried to unhook herself from the rope for a few minutes.
[break][break]
Growing flustered and frustrated with trying to untangle her ankle without plunging herself into the muddy mire, she let go and hung upside down for a while longer, chewing on her eaten words.


[break]

[attr="class","gunstest1ooc"][break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Boot Camp

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]






Giselle Sigebrand laughed aloud at Gunner Graves's remark, feeling pure anticipation override her pent-up rage. "Okay, Graves, let's see how six years of your 'training' stacks up to me." She smirked, fixing her concentration on the hurdles before them.
[break][break]
They took their positions at the starting line, Zelle waiting with bated breath for the starting whistle.
[break][break]
Brrrrrrttt!
[break][break]
At the whistle, Zelle took off like a shot, her long, slender legs and sneakered feet whipping across the packed dirt of the obstacle track. She easily leapt over the first, second, third hurdle. Seconds passed and she cleared all twelve. She didn't even risk a glance to the side to check on Gunner's progress. Even a moment's hesitation could cause her to eat her words, and she couldn't have that.
[break][break]
She dove into sludgy mud, soaking her white t-shirt as she army-crawled under nets of barbed wire. Suddenly, she felt her sleeve catch on the iron thorns, stuck for however many breathless seconds, but she simply jerked her arm away, hearing the fabric rip.
[break][break]
A small price to pay. She only hoped it didn't hold her back too long. She needed to win.
[break][break]
She cleared the monkey bars, high-stepped a trail of rubber tires, and more obstacles, on and on. She finally came upon the next daunting challenge: a raised web of twisted rope she had to cross or else plunge into a pool of mud below.
[break][break]
Taking a deep breath, she lunged at the climbing rope ascending to the elevated web. As she climbed hand over hand, she felt the rope tear through one of her calluses, hard-won from sword fighting.
[break][break]
She gritted her teeth against the reflex to cry out in pain, instead waiting until she reached the top to wipe the blood off on her shorts. Then, it was time to tackle the rope web. The strategy here, she knew, was to roll across to the other side.
[break][break]



[break]

[attr="class","gunstest1ooc"][break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Boot Camp

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","gunstest1text"]






Giselle Sigebrand surveyed the wide, open fields of Verdanturf, her face contorting into a contemplative frown as her eyes landed on the obstacle course laid out for the boot camp attendees. "Tch, what a joke," she said under her breath. After years of being a street urchin constantly on the run among the maze of city alleyways, what were a few rope ladders and mud crawls under barbed wire?
[break][break]
She only balked at the swim test--she wasn't the greatest swimmer, though she knew how to tread water for a minute.
[break][break]

---

[break][break]
As predicted, she failed the test, her freestyle stroke swiftly turning into a bastardized dog-paddle before she got halfway across the swimming pool. The instructor called her to the edge of the pool, stopping her before she could finish the exam. She marked something on her clipboard with a tsk and a head shake, making Zelle clench her teeth in suppressed indignation. "Cadet, work on your swimming during free time. Make use of your resources. Ask one of the instructors to teach you, look it up on the computer, I don't care. All of you should be able to swim the length of a pool and back."
[break][break]
"Yes, ma'am," she gritted out before turning on her heel and stiffly walking away.
[break][break]
Fury still embedded in the set of her shoulders, Zelle took a moment to breathe and hydrate at the designated water table. Gulping down the water, she eyed the board that denoted partners for the obstacle course. Whoever her partner turned out to be, she was going to kick their ass in a race, especially now that she was fired up.
[break][break]
She tossed her cup in the trash as a man walked up to her and greeted her.
[break][break]
"Hey. Sigebrand? I'm Graves. It seems we're racing each other for the obstacle course."
[break][break]
She sized him up with a swift flick of her gaze. Gunner Graves was tall, handsome, blond. Older. Zelle felt herself get more pissed at how attractive and confident he was in the way he carried himself. Probably got everything he wanted out of life and more.
[break][break]
"Hi, Graves. Nice to meet you, and I suppose we are," she said, a slight but audibly sardonic lilt to her voice. There wasn't any need to be friendly here. They were rivals. She didn't need him to advance. She just needed to beat him.
[break][break]
She allowed her body language to signal that she was about to head over to the course, and didn't bother to check if he followed or not. "Do you take bets?" she said, crude as the suggestion was, a leftover habit from her petty criminal days in Hammerlocke.
[break][break]
"Because I bet I'll kick your ass at this course." She smiled, and it wasn't quite a friendly one.


[break]

[attr="class","gunstest1ooc"][break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Boot Camp

BY GUNSMILE