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A simple little short story featuring my glameow, Gabrielle and her normal training routine. Just a little more insight to her character.
A simple little short story featuring my glameow, Gabrielle and her normal training routine. Just a little more insight to her character.
Category Story / Pokemon
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 78.5 kB
Rhythm
Gabrielle breathed deeply. She stood alone in the gym of her father's mansion. Overhead speakers pumped out a mid-paced Latin beat.
She was shun of her typical clothing. The young glameow standing on the square practice mat clad in a cream tank top and dark blue track pants.
After a few, seemingly long seconds, she exhaled. Her long tail swayed and twitched with the music's beat. She closed her eyes and inhaled once more, a small smile forming on her lips as her body relaxed. Her body swayed briefly before she began to perform a ginga, a basic capoeira move. She swung her left arm in front of her while stepping back with her right leg and then did the same with her opposite arm and leg.
As the music played, Gabrielle began a series of gymnastic maneuvers: she started with a slow cartwheel into an equally slow backwards handstand. As her feet touched the ground, the glameow crouched and reached out with left foot, going into a sweep, bracing herself on her right hand. The glameow finished the sweeping motion, shifting her weight on to her right hand, going back into a handstand and kicking out with her right leg at the same time. All of this was done in one fluid motion as her tail continued to twitch in time with the music.
All this was a simple warm up though, the basics of her art. While it was fun to do, it wasn’t the workout or practice she had come here for. No, what she was waiting for while doing these handstands and slow cartwheels was something more up beat, more vigorous.
As if on cue, a series of four targets dropped down from the ceiling: two to either side of her, one at head level, and the last at stomach level. The music's tempo picked up and a large smile formed on the glameow's lips. Now the workout would begin in earnest.
She finished the aú fechado, a closed cartwheel with the knees bent, she had been performing and immediately went to a faster paced ginga, crouching low with each movement. She kept her eyes focused on the target in front of her, tail curled, ears twitching, grin widening. With a fluid motion she braced herself on her left foot as she reached forward with it, twisting her body around towards the right at the same time, letting inertia bring her right leg around, her heel hitting the target with a satisfying smack.
Her body moved in a blur of kicks, never staying still for too long. As her she brought her right leg back down, she immediately flipped back into a handstand, bringing her left leg down and hitting the horizontal target that appeared there. She kept her leg extended and went into the splits, spinning quickly on her hands, hitting two more targets, each moving with the hit.
As the temp picked up, so did her movements. Not once did she slow down, her body moving in time to the beat and rhythm. Effortlessly she moved from a ginga into an Au into a Blanca and from there into a queixada-armada-meia-lu compasso and back into a ginga. Two of the kicks hit there intended target, the last was used to maneuver back into a ginga and into a quick spinning back kick, nearly knocking off the target behind her off its supports.
She smiled at that. Many who watched her perform capoeira were completely unaware of the actual power the kicks held. She knew that many looked like they would not hurt at all, but she could attest that indeed they did hurt from the many bruises she had received from her grandmother while sparring in her younger days.
A new target quickly dropped down in front of the glameow. Unlike the others, this one moved with the music, moving side-to-side and back and forth, as if it was dodging and attacking. She took a breath, she knew this target had trick up its metaphorical sleeve. One her grandmother had installed. She moved forward, twisting her body around as if going for another spinning back kick. She never finished it, switching it into a cartwheel to the left to avoid the punch the target suddenly threw at her. The small punching glove retracting back into the target as her feet touched the ground. Inwardly she was relieved and more than a little proud of herself. She had never avoided the punch before. More often than not, she would end up with a bloody nose for her efforts.
She didn’t let pride remain in her long though. Though this was merely a training workout, any slip up could result in her getting hurt. She started a ginga again ducking and rolling out of the way of various punches the target begin shooting at her. When she finally saw an opening, she sprang of her left leg, leaping toward the target, twisting her body around, the top part of her slamming into the target, in the same motion, she brought her left leg around to finish the spin and letting her heel follow up into the target. As she landed, though, the target shot out one final punch. The glameow caught in coming out the corner of her eye and backfliped away, but not quick enough to avoid being grazed by the blow.
She winced as she landed. Though it was a glancing blow, it still hurt. Still, she was relieved that she had avoided it by that much. Taking the punch full on would have been so much worse. She took a breath. The music was still going, the beat and rhythm were still there. There was much more of the dance to do. With a grin, she let herself be enveloped by the music and her dance.
Soon the music faded and Gabrielle dropped to one knee. Although exhausted and breathing heavily, she smiled broadly, uncaring that her tank top clung to her small chest, drenched in sweat. Tanking a deep breath, she stood and padded off the practice mat. Her steps slowly and measured, she walked over to where picture sat upon a small table amidst a trio of lavender colored candles.
The young glameow knelt down in front of the picture and took a small, silver zippo lighter from the solitary drawer in the table and lit the three candles. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the scent of lavender coming from the candles and let her body relax once more. When she was ready, she opened her eyes and looked at the image of an elderly glameow with long, silvery hair and wisdom filled light blue eyes.
“Were you watching, Grandma?” The young glameow asked. “I've gotten better. I am still not as good as you were at my age, but soon.. Very soon I will be. The rhythm, I almost have it. When I do, I hope others will watch me like they watched you.”
She took another deep breath.
“I haven't forgotten my promise to you. It may take more time than I would like, but I will become a mestre like you were. I will pass what you taught me to those that follow me. Until then...” She blew out the candles and stood. “Until then, watch over me and guide me with your rhythm.”
Gabrielle breathed deeply. She stood alone in the gym of her father's mansion. Overhead speakers pumped out a mid-paced Latin beat.
She was shun of her typical clothing. The young glameow standing on the square practice mat clad in a cream tank top and dark blue track pants.
After a few, seemingly long seconds, she exhaled. Her long tail swayed and twitched with the music's beat. She closed her eyes and inhaled once more, a small smile forming on her lips as her body relaxed. Her body swayed briefly before she began to perform a ginga, a basic capoeira move. She swung her left arm in front of her while stepping back with her right leg and then did the same with her opposite arm and leg.
As the music played, Gabrielle began a series of gymnastic maneuvers: she started with a slow cartwheel into an equally slow backwards handstand. As her feet touched the ground, the glameow crouched and reached out with left foot, going into a sweep, bracing herself on her right hand. The glameow finished the sweeping motion, shifting her weight on to her right hand, going back into a handstand and kicking out with her right leg at the same time. All of this was done in one fluid motion as her tail continued to twitch in time with the music.
All this was a simple warm up though, the basics of her art. While it was fun to do, it wasn’t the workout or practice she had come here for. No, what she was waiting for while doing these handstands and slow cartwheels was something more up beat, more vigorous.
As if on cue, a series of four targets dropped down from the ceiling: two to either side of her, one at head level, and the last at stomach level. The music's tempo picked up and a large smile formed on the glameow's lips. Now the workout would begin in earnest.
She finished the aú fechado, a closed cartwheel with the knees bent, she had been performing and immediately went to a faster paced ginga, crouching low with each movement. She kept her eyes focused on the target in front of her, tail curled, ears twitching, grin widening. With a fluid motion she braced herself on her left foot as she reached forward with it, twisting her body around towards the right at the same time, letting inertia bring her right leg around, her heel hitting the target with a satisfying smack.
Her body moved in a blur of kicks, never staying still for too long. As her she brought her right leg back down, she immediately flipped back into a handstand, bringing her left leg down and hitting the horizontal target that appeared there. She kept her leg extended and went into the splits, spinning quickly on her hands, hitting two more targets, each moving with the hit.
As the temp picked up, so did her movements. Not once did she slow down, her body moving in time to the beat and rhythm. Effortlessly she moved from a ginga into an Au into a Blanca and from there into a queixada-armada-meia-lu compasso and back into a ginga. Two of the kicks hit there intended target, the last was used to maneuver back into a ginga and into a quick spinning back kick, nearly knocking off the target behind her off its supports.
She smiled at that. Many who watched her perform capoeira were completely unaware of the actual power the kicks held. She knew that many looked like they would not hurt at all, but she could attest that indeed they did hurt from the many bruises she had received from her grandmother while sparring in her younger days.
A new target quickly dropped down in front of the glameow. Unlike the others, this one moved with the music, moving side-to-side and back and forth, as if it was dodging and attacking. She took a breath, she knew this target had trick up its metaphorical sleeve. One her grandmother had installed. She moved forward, twisting her body around as if going for another spinning back kick. She never finished it, switching it into a cartwheel to the left to avoid the punch the target suddenly threw at her. The small punching glove retracting back into the target as her feet touched the ground. Inwardly she was relieved and more than a little proud of herself. She had never avoided the punch before. More often than not, she would end up with a bloody nose for her efforts.
She didn’t let pride remain in her long though. Though this was merely a training workout, any slip up could result in her getting hurt. She started a ginga again ducking and rolling out of the way of various punches the target begin shooting at her. When she finally saw an opening, she sprang of her left leg, leaping toward the target, twisting her body around, the top part of her slamming into the target, in the same motion, she brought her left leg around to finish the spin and letting her heel follow up into the target. As she landed, though, the target shot out one final punch. The glameow caught in coming out the corner of her eye and backfliped away, but not quick enough to avoid being grazed by the blow.
She winced as she landed. Though it was a glancing blow, it still hurt. Still, she was relieved that she had avoided it by that much. Taking the punch full on would have been so much worse. She took a breath. The music was still going, the beat and rhythm were still there. There was much more of the dance to do. With a grin, she let herself be enveloped by the music and her dance.
Soon the music faded and Gabrielle dropped to one knee. Although exhausted and breathing heavily, she smiled broadly, uncaring that her tank top clung to her small chest, drenched in sweat. Tanking a deep breath, she stood and padded off the practice mat. Her steps slowly and measured, she walked over to where picture sat upon a small table amidst a trio of lavender colored candles.
The young glameow knelt down in front of the picture and took a small, silver zippo lighter from the solitary drawer in the table and lit the three candles. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the scent of lavender coming from the candles and let her body relax once more. When she was ready, she opened her eyes and looked at the image of an elderly glameow with long, silvery hair and wisdom filled light blue eyes.
“Were you watching, Grandma?” The young glameow asked. “I've gotten better. I am still not as good as you were at my age, but soon.. Very soon I will be. The rhythm, I almost have it. When I do, I hope others will watch me like they watched you.”
She took another deep breath.
“I haven't forgotten my promise to you. It may take more time than I would like, but I will become a mestre like you were. I will pass what you taught me to those that follow me. Until then...” She blew out the candles and stood. “Until then, watch over me and guide me with your rhythm.”
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