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Vastime was a lovely place, and Mirja liked it. Not just because it had her coffee shop or Hayden or she could walk around and not get scowled at, but because it had a feeling of intrinsic peace embedded in the very fabric of it's cities. She came here to catch a break from all the hustle and mental bustle, and also because recently she had finished her business with Monsuta and given an actual rank of Private. She hadn't received her uniform yet, or had eaten it in a moment of madness and then forgot where she put the ketchup, either way.
But, she wanted to look the part when she was doing her general training today. It wasn't specialized or focused on any one thing, just going through some Kata to keep her forms sharp and her skill up to date. She might release her Tulpa later, just to keep that in tip top shape as well. Vastime would see more Tulpas if she kept the pace of training others that she was, but then the one guy that took it really unseriously had screwed up her drive and ruined her desire to teach, at least until the next person came along.
Her uniform that she was wearing wasn't exactly good for training. It was a cute military-styled outfit with a jacket that didn’t quite reach her hips, but sleeves enough to cover her entire arms. There was an undershirt that covered her entire torso and then reached down to just past her thighs, and left a half-inch of leg showing between the undershirt and the cute stockings she was wearing. And to top it all off, she was wearing a strange beret-like hat with holes for her ears. But, she didn't mind that, it was training for when she was wearing strange stuff and needed to fight. And not because she looked cute and militant in it.
Dismissing the idiot who wanted to join in with her Kata and yet was so dense and stupid about what it meant, to her and to the man himself, she leaned back and shook her head. Was this really all that Hayden could do? Or was it that he was happy with people that could shoot an gun and profess loyalty and that was it, he wanted nothing more. No cultured men of martial prowess, no men she could share her heart and soul with. No one to bare who she really was to and have herself reflected in their eyes, a meeting on minds to bring glorious innovation to the both of them.
And then, just to make matters worse, a stinking homeless bum arrived and complained about his hangover. Shouting at her that shouting at some microcephalic cock-juggler was wrong and it was making his hangover worse. Fuming now at the utter lack of decency in this city, Mirja took off and appeared in front of him in the blink of an eye. A terrible thing to do because getting close made the stink even worse. Her nose wanted to crumple up and run away screaming in terror. But she had a job to do, so she stuck it out.
"Well, maybe try not getting hung over in the first place? Booze is not something you should be spending all your money on when you could clearly do with a home with a shower in it first. Of course, I could always relieve you of your hangover permanently if it ails you so greatly" she offered, a latex-clad hand clenching to a fist as she offered. The Wolf was not in the slightest bit happy right now, and crazy things had been known to go down when she was on the wrong side of happy.