[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjcyLkIyQUM4OC5WSEpoYVc1cGJtY2dabTl5SUdSaGNtVmtaWFpwYkhNZ1lXNWtJSFJvWlNCamJHbHVhV05oYkd4NUlHbHVjMkZ1WlEsLC4w/italianno.regular.webp[/img] Current form: Female Location: The Foggy Glass & The Quad Interacting with: Krista Müller [@aewin][/center] [hr][hr] It was 5 AM, and everyone at Crystal Peak that was of sound mind was still sleeping. The waxing crescent moon still hung in the sky and the sun’s illumination yet a but a looming threat to its presence. Sasha jogged through empty, dimly lit streets through the town centre. She stopped at the backdoor of The Foggy Glass. She looked around, scanning her surroundings, before pulling the key out of her back pocket. She unlocked the door and then locked it again behind her. It had taken Sasha a lot of effort to get this entire gig arranged over summer. She still recalled Isaac Schutlz’s puzzled look when she first brought up the idea. Not to mention her dad’s expression, who had laughed in his usual, bellowing roars that had become a meme for a short while when it first appeared on the big screen. Recalling the entire thing evoked a giggle. It couldn’t be helped, she had needed his credit card to get it sorted. The old man was stingy with money, even after the entire top 8 schtick was practically showering him with more money than the Delgados knew what to do with, as a result of his own frugal upbringing. But hearing that it was for training purposes, he quickly relented. Sasha stepped into her own private distillery in the bar’s back chambers. She had wanted to install it in her dorm room at first, in truth, but that idea had been shot down quickly. Unfortunately her [i]intimate[/i] relationship with her resident assistant did not quite open these kinds of doors. Isaac had arranged a room in the bar for her, instead. Perhaps it was for the best. After all, the distillery would’ve taken up far too much space! It had turned into more of a small laboratory, in truth. Sasha was planning to work on a few different chemicals here. Not all of them were quite legal, but that was only a problem if people found out. Regardless, for now, strong drink was more than plenty. Arranged on a shelf at the back of the room were a series of bottles, about a litre each, all neatly labelled with their contents. Spirits, with alcohol percentages ranging between roughly 90 and 95%. About as strong as they came, for the most part. With her finger she traced the shelves, picking out bottles she deemed fit. She set aside a number of bottles for the party. Even though she had said this was meant for training, certainly nobody would mind if she donated [i]a few[/i] bottles to a good cause every now and then. She then took another bottle off the shelf and opened it. The burning scent of nearly-pure alcohol seared her nostrils and sent a shiver coursing through her body. She stared at it for a while. She thought about this for a while, before concluding: [color=B2AC88][i]Hesitation is for pussies.[/i][/color]Then she put the bottle to her lips and sent it all down the hatch in one go. Her throat was a burning mass of agony for but a moment. With a thought, she told all nerve endings in her oesophagus to go take a hike. She did the same to her stomach, and repressed anything that would send it back up again. Instead, she promoted the uptake of all this alcohol into her body. All the while, she took a second bottle to repeat this entire process, followed by a third just for good measure. She opened the floodgates of her blood-brain-barrier, letting in the copious amounts of alcohol even more easily than it normally did. She let it fill up until her brain was positively bathing in the stuff. The alcohol started to react with her brain, doing all the things it would normally do to get a person drunk. And then dead, given how much of the god damn stuff there was coursing through her veins right now. But Sasha denied it, and shut down all attempts of reactions with her brain right then and there. And so there the alcohol was, bereft of its original purpose. Unsure of what to do besides just try to interact with that brain as was its nature, again and again,, yet to be denied again and again. A desperate assault of molecules on her brain, crying for the fulfilment of their destiny. But they failed. And so Sasha’s newest addition to their usual training routine had successfully commenced. Sasha gathered the other bottles in a backpack, closed it carefully and took them back to her dorm room for the party. Then she went to the training centre and continued with their usual workout. The art of not having anything fuck around with your body that you don’t want it to was one of Sasha’s greatest techniques. But amongst those, keeping your brain functioning properly was always a difficult one. To stop anything, or anyone, from messing with all those neural stimuli, synapses, neurotransmitters and constant creation and destruction of neural connections all around the damn thing was difficult. All the while figuring out which ones her own body actually intended to do, and in the meantime not fucking up and actually shutting the whole thing down because you were stopping some crucial reaction from occurring. For most of her body parts this had been a cinch. And even for the brain she was learning how to master it now. In truth, she could already do it perfectly when focussing. But doing it perfectly in the heat of battle was an entirely different thing. And so Sasha had to train to manage their brain while doing other things. Primarily battle training. She followed her usual martial arts routines, as drilled into her by her father and other trainers. Kickboxing and kung-fu, primarily. Then she morphed her body to a different configuration and did them again. One time she was small, barely a metre. Another time she stood at about five and was covered in a carapace of bone and six arms. She made sure to use her powers a lot in this routine. After all, that was what she would be doing in actual combat. Using abilities simultaneously was another one of those things she kept training. Afterward she went back to her dorm, took a refreshing shower and switched into her attire for the day. She opted for [url=https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/190887837111943179/1013464461354483843/unknown.png]a cropped white top with a graphic bee design, paired with a mini sporty skirt that hugged her body comfortably. She also wore an oversized leather jacket with leather loafers and long black socks.[/url] She proceeded to follow her morning classes, and certainly did note the look Isaac gave her, knowing fully well what was going on. She had told him, after all. She did notice an onset of drunkenness when a class got slightly too boring, but that was quickly undone, and repaired. Luckily for her, her classes ended at exactly 12 today. She strolled from the academy straight to the Quadrangle. The great bustling of people added but another distraction, just as intended. She weaved through the crowd, exchanging some greetings along the way while on the lookout for the freshmen. Sasha did quite enjoy this whole socialising thing, even if she had to reintroduce herself at times. Alas, that was one of the few drawbacks of this whole shape changing thing. She was expected to be at the theatre club; their play was at 1:30. Here and there around the quad there hung posters of the event so that nobody would have to miss it. She didn’t doubt that they were already setting up. She would need to get changed and get her make-up done. But she was here early. So certainly she could afford a short stop at the music club before that. The music stall was lively, as it was every year. Some students were already signing sheets, promising it would be another good turnout this year. And there she saw Krista, who seemed to have just failed enticing a new prospect. Sasha chuckled softly, waiting for the student to leave earshot before approaching. [color=B2AC88]”I think you need to practice your siren song. Because you certainly aren't luring them in.”[/color] She smiled. But then she noticed her expression was unusual for the bubbly blonde. Contemplative, perhaps? [color=B2AC88]”Hey, you okay? It’s really not a big deal to let one slip the net!”[/color]