Thread: this isn't g o d z i l l a. [ banks x sync. ]

The sound of the starting second rang out around them, the brunette lightly tapping her staves together apparently seeming to trigger Franz into moving first, making the first strike with his chosen quarterstaff. Blocking him quickly with a careful placement of her feet, the woman's movements throughout their fight were each quick and graceful, showing signs of prior training in something other than preparing for war. It was a common question among everyone to ask what they were doing before the Precursors decided to make a mockery of Earth, different stories being told here and there. The young woman had spent her younger years in ballet, graceful footing a shining light to her past of dancing, past of twirling on her toes and avoiding invisible obstacles. Or, the ground. This grace had transcended well into military combat, already used to rigorous training as it was. The cracking of each hit placed against the training weapons, Fleur had mentally associated Franz with that of a bull. Franz, the German bull, was clearly a tough young man, strong and easy to see why he had been chosen for the program, his size matching well with his stamina. He towered over the woman who only stood at a mere five two, though both seemed as though they showed no real anger toward the other. This wasn't about embarrassing one another, it was about being equally matched to help literally save the world. The smooth placements of her feet, and the way her figure moved in comparison to the brute force that Franz was, it was only a matter of time that this brute force was brought down onto the mat, thighs wrapped around his neck and staves holding his staff down beside them. Looks like we're going to have a lot of female Jaeger pilots. She heard someone say, laughing softly as she released him after the final count, Fleur Valeraine, 3 straight wins. The two standing up now, caramel colored eyes watched the man now as he grinned broadly, offering a hand to her, I like you, Frenchy. The calm expression on her face cracked when her lips parted to laugh, shaking his hand as the airy sound filled the space between them. At least he wasn't a complete asshole. After all, how could they? Europe's part in the attacks had been in the likes of science, being that none of the Kaiju had made their attacks toward them until recently, the majority of France's participation alone being that of new designs for the Jaegers. Different materials for the suits, different defenses, Europe had only provided a few pilots, thus it being a surprise when there was a handful of actual people training to be pilots, and not in the support team. Fleur was only one of two from her group with no interest in being on the ground. It had almost been a surprise to her family, not using the fluid brain of hers within the support room to call out to Jaeger pilots, instead preferring to be the one fighting them down. Perhaps it was all those years of being sweet and docile, maybe that was when getting tattoos had become a constant itch for her that was only occasionally fixed, until she realized that the itch was for something much bigger. Fleur Valeraine and. . Cassandra Dylan. Her mind snapping out of the faint daydream she had let herself fall into, the woman shook her head to regain her focus in the situation at hand. Franz leaving the mat left place for another, watching the set of suits as they moved calmly through their sets of papers. Judging by the faint whispers, it had been a while since two women were matched to fight. It caused her no distress though, the female tucking a dark curl of hair back behind her ear. Vision following the stares toward the blonde, she had come in just at the end of her fight though showed no frustration in not being aware of the fighting style of the other woman. Char raised her arms above her head in a gentle stretch as she awaited the beginning of the next match, nodding her head in a faint greeting to the other as the countdown began.