A clean and refreshed form of Wind emerged from the front door of his room, clad in his usual black jeans and a towel around his shoulders he began to make his way to the elevator. To say he turned a few heads was an understatement, mouths gawked open, parents covered children's eyes, but why not? The massive scarring and burns over his upper body were only partially masked by the tattoos yet enough to remain in plain sight.
Wind finally arrived before the door to the gym, ending the free freak show for any onlookers that remained. The Clerk hadn't lied, the gym was amazing. Wind hadn't seen anything this well furnished since his days back aboard the Pegasus, though then he was far too young to be troubled with the thought of working out. One thing stood out to his eye, a black punching bag.
The right hand of Wind moved out so quickly towards the bag it would appear almost as a blur to the normal eye. The contact of his knuckles moving into the bag, forcing it to double at the pressure would send it flying backwards on the chain that holds it. A quick side step with his left foot would give him substantial leverage to swing a massive right footed kick to the side of the bag, forcing it's chain to creak as it barrels away. The right foot of Wind drops close towards his left, his eyes narrowing as the bag moves back in towards him. A leap from his left foot inwards would only further the force of his right knee as it extends outwards to the bag, his dropping force against it snaps a link of the chain and sends the bag down, the form of Wind landing atop it.
Far too long...
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