Lysander von Ascania
Veiled Disciple
Gone was the purple robe of Derriphan that had cloaked him for most of the day. Instead, he embraced something entirely different: black athletic shorts that cut off above the knee, paired with a sleeveless black shirt. The acolyte's feet were free from the leather boots that were worn daily; now, he was sporting black high top shoes with flat soles, making it clear he was no novice to the training they were about to endure.
Around Lysander’s neck rested a pair of headphones, connected to a playlist heavy with bass. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder, carrying an arsenal of gear that signaled he prepared for anything.
His anticipation was greatly amplified by the fizzling pre-workout cocktail within a shaker cup in one hand. Sports supplements were something the blonde totally geeked out over; his passion for it could rival a seasoned Sith alchemist. The ingredients combined were enough to challenge the Force itself. It was overdosed with vasodilators for the pump, enough stimulants to fuel a Bantha across Korriban’s vast desert, and a pinch of cognitive enhancers, to sharpen his mind like a vibroknife.
With what he believed to be a simple gesture of camaraderie, the acolyte prepared another drink for the Zabrak, using a spare cup that had already been handed over.
In truth, he was actually glad they found common ground during their detention.
With another sip, Lysander rolled the liquid over his tongue, savoring the fruity tang as they approached the gym building, which was connected to the dojo of Kor'ethyr Academy. “You'll be ready to lift an entire planet after my special blend.. it’d probably be illegal or something in the Mid and Inner Rim areas,” he stated, his tone light.
A spark of mischief then danced in the boy's emerald gaze, and a sly grin flashed as his attention shifted momentarily to Naamino. “These weights don't stand a chance."
The gym’s doors were now in view.
Finishing the last drops, he placed the empty container back in the bag and reached for the datapad, shutting it off. Lately, he'd gotten worse about checking for emails from a certain girl— even when he knew none were coming. No doubt, it was foolish, but he couldn't help himself, even after acknowledging the fact. Now, with the device no longer threatening to distract him, he could fully commit to their training session. The thought of testing his raw strength against the other student was exciting.
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