Open Finished Taking it out on the dummy

Her first day on an unknown island where she would most likely spend the rest of her life and all Honua had on her mind was to continue practicing the various martial arts that she knew. She found her assigned room, dropped off her stuff and searched for a room with a training dummy in. She didn't even acknowledge if she had a roommate or not.

Her emotions were in a confused state. She felt comforted that she was in a place that was supposedly 'safe' for people like her, angry that her father convinced her to move away to an island no one had ever heard of before and also sad that she had to leave her home, the sea and her family behind her. Sure, she was still surrounded by the ocean but it wasn't the same. It wasn't where she would run down to the end of the small pier to wave her father goodbye every morning.

Upon finding a suitable room, she let herself in, enveloping her hands in hand wrap to stop her knuckles from hurting too much. She walked up to the dummy, hands raised at her chest, and stared at it for a second. A cold glare that would unnerve the person those hazel eyes were aimed at. She got to work, a combination of lua and kickboxing techniques attacking the wooden dummy with all her strength, occassionally letting out short yells. She channeled the built up anger into every hit like she was trying to break the thing in half.

Honua continued to beat the wooden pillar with bars that protruded from the trunk. It was what she enjoyed doing, kicking and punching her thoughts and duties away. As she kicked to where her opponent's head would be, she heard someone enter the room.

She hoped the person wouldn't stay, people were annoying when they tried to create small talk. In fact, people were annoying in general. Not hearing any movement, she figured the person must still be there so she glanced over her shoulder to see a boy around her age with shaggy blue hair. He gave her a nod, to which she looked him up and down, gave a small nod back and continued to right cross the dummy.

The guy didn't leave her in peace, he disappeared into the closet and returned with a punching bag in hand. Despite this, Honua avoided looking at the boy, continuing to perform kicks and punches at a fast pace. She wasn't use to someone else being in the room whilst she practiced, other than her teacher, and she wasn't sure if she liked it.

He was good. Very good in fact. His fighting skills seemed flawless and somewhat effortless to execute. Every now and then, she would pause from pounding the dummy, just for a second, and glance in his direction. It was impressive; she had not met more than a handfull of people that were skilled as he was and they were older than him. She liked to think that she was probably better, but that might not have been the case. That wouldn't stop her trying if the situation were to arise.

She paused for a moment and turned to him. "Thanks," she started, "You're good too, I guess." It was a compliment but she didn't want to appear too impressed by his skills. It was clear he was very experienced but showing too much admiration could give him the impression that he was better than her, giving him the upper hand. Honua liked to feel that she had the advantage in situations, though not always the case.

Turning back to the dummy and resuming her attacks, she muttered, "Yeah, I arrived last week." Only recently arriving, she was still trying to adjust to the abnormalities of the place and the people that inhabited it. "Honua. Honua Kapule," she greeted, still keeping her gaze at the wooden pole.

"You could say that," she replied, widening her eyes for a second as she said it. Honua considered it more as weird than interesting. She didn't understand a lot of what she had sen on the island and she had little interest of trying to understand it all.

Was she liking it? Her mind was still leaning more towards no than yes but as her mother said to her all the time: 'a place is only as good as the people you know in it.' She didn't know anyone yet and it didn't really bother her. For now, being alone with her thoughts was enough for her. "To tell you the truth, not really."

Sighing, she asked bitterly, "Is this an interrogation?" She didn't want to be bombarded with questions, just fight. "I'm 17. In eleventh grade. I come from Hawaii. Like to sit under the stars and enjoy long walks on the beach," she blurted like it was for some sappy dating app, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Right, is there something you want?"