Inside one of the many training rooms at Beacon, odd clinking sounds met the noise of hits against a training dummy. Standing straight, a hooded woman stood a few meters away from the sturdy target – and oddly enough, with four chains extending out of her back taking turns to try and weave their way forward to impact it.
The figure was wearing headphones, the edge of them peeking out beneath the hood, but the rest of her features were somewhat obscured in her combat gear; somewhat reinforced jeans and a similar hoodie covered in little chains on their side. The clothing seemed a little damp; she appeared to have been working for a while, at any rate.
She would go through a pattern; the chains would start slowly hitting the dummy in sequence, then the process would repeat, sped up. This kept going until suddenly, one would veer off oddly, tie itself in the others, or even swing back around near the huntress-in-training to the point she had to block it. There was a quiet curse mumbled each time, and visible agitation in the now-hunched figure of Samantha Quartz as she attempted to get a handle of her chains again after her injury.
The damage done to her own body had been annoying, but she’d dealt with worse. What was grating on her nerves was the damage done to her implant. Unlike the rest of her body, the doctors didn’t exactly know what to do with it – even she’d had to figure it out through reverse engineering, but the large gash near the centre of the four circles had resulted in her not having perfect control of her chains anymore. It was like your arm randomly deciding to punch yourself one out of every ten punches; infuriating and possibly dangerous. It did only happen during fast-paced movements, but it was a very much ‘for now’ outlook in Samantha’s head; a tire will continue to deflate once its punctured, after all.
Another few misses and a sudden chain whacking her in her side brought out a slight yelp of surprise from the fox faunus, distracted in her own thoughts for the moment. The jolt back to reality brought along a frustrated growl from Samantha, before the four chains suddenly snapped forward to bind around the dummy, her semblance charging in their collective forms through the sound of their rattling before the dummy was constricted and torn apart with a screeching noise of her semblance release.
A few more moments passed, before Samantha let her fists unclench, one going to rub against her forehead.
“Shouldn’t lose control like that. In either sense…” She murmured to herself, tone slipping back to its usual neutral point as deep breaths brought her back to her senses, the chains continuing to rattle for a few more seconds before the rest of the stored energy dissipated. Letting them slowly coil back up around her body, she drew Staccato and Encore out of their sheathes, instead deciding to practise something she could control.
A little jolt of pain chaining up the metallic portion of her arm reminded her that might not be true too much longer. Gritting her teeth, she started up the motions nonetheless, determined to at least get something done during one of the rare times she had enough motivation to actually work on training.