Post by Nola Vilde on Jan 6, 2018 0:07:01 GMT -5
Training for CTP
Nola was finally....adjusted to squad 10. It had taken some doing, especially with her....unusual looks. Between that brilliant scarlet skin and the piercing white hair, it had taken a while for her squad to grow used to her appearance, but by now the staring was now down to a minimum, and due to the...nature of those stares, she was begining to feel like at the very least, 'weird' wasn't what came to mind when she got them. But she did her best not to focus on that. Rather she was more intent upon other things! One of the other squads, it seemed, had deemed it fit to make some sort of exchange program. The shinigami shift between squads for a day of training. No doubt due to the trials and tribulations, Squad four especially, the sereitei was beginning to realize that the collection of all similarly-skilled shinigami in single barracks was not the best idea.
Fast forward to today? and now cross-squad training was becoming more frequent. In an attempt to diversify talent, the Gotei seemed intent on being able (at least partially) to make up for any heavy losses similar to the devastation of squad four. And so Nola had volunteered. As fifth seat of her division, she had been designated as one of the trainers, and she was going to be getting her very first trainee today. For the time being, she stood out in the training grounds, off to the side near a rather large cherry tree, waiting patiently as she expected her trainee to arrive soon. Truth be told, she was....hesitant about this sort of thing, after all her skills were a bit selective,what honestly could she teach a shinigami? She always seemed to rely on her squadmates a lot when doing missions, but she put that behind her for now. Now, she was to focus on what she COULD teach the lad or lass. Honestly it was her only choice.
Letting out a soft sigh, she glanced off to the horizon. It was afternoon, and not quite sunset, but it was getting late into the evening, the sky blazed a soft orange as the sun was saying it's goodbyes, casting an orange glow to the already oddly-pigmented woman. She let her palm rest on the handle of her...exotic zanpaku'to. A massive needle, several feet in length, with the eye of the implement being the handle that she held it by, sheathed in it's own narrow holster. Strange by any stretch of the imagination. But it was hers, all the same.