A soft breath came from Mathilde. A deep voice in her mind instructed her that the hologram training would start in five seconds. And proceeded to count it down. At the mark of two, the white coat hit the floor with a soft thud of the heavy leather with metal braced in it. A soft sheen in the otherwise ill lit training room, and the blade of a massive scythe lowered behind her. Eyes were closed. The epitome of control and serenity.
"Program initiated," chimed the AI in her mind as several holographic Grimm appeared in the room, to her eyes only. With an almost explosive burst of movement, Mathilde charged forward at the first, scythe brandished. The crescent blade ready to slaughter the representations of an enemy. It was different from actual combat. As Harrowed Justice cut through, there was no resistance of flesh and bone. Nothing that halted her momentum. As if fighting a Gheist that had no selected form. She had to compensate for that.
The first Grimm shattered under a succesful kill. She flung the scythe around and ducked under it, circling it above her back and smacking the blunt edge against the mask of another. On and on as a set number of enemies kept spawning and crashing down on her. Each dispatched with collossal feats of strength, yet grace was also part of her fighting style. She flowed like water and moved as an experienced fighter. Albeit that she made missteps and was sometimes slow to react and pull the massive weapon around. Yet, it seemed to suit her more than just fine.
To any onlooker, it would just look like she was fighting purely on imagination.
"Program terminated," came the voice in her head again. "Accuracy, 72 percent. Clearing speed dropped with 0.2 seconds. Calculated on parameters, grade A." She grit her teeth. Too slow, way too innacurate, was what she told herself as she lifted the scythe, resting it on her shoulder. "From the top," was what the gynoid mumbled to herself as she moved to the coat she had dropped on her original position. Rolling her shoulder during. Math Put it on again and entered her casual stance again. She needed to be able to assess and react to a situation on a whim. It was a speed that had killed her creator. Or rather, her father. So naturally, it was speed she needed to train.
Last edited by Mathilde Harmaa on Wed Oct 25, 2017 9:02 pm; edited 1 time in total