Fandom High Dormitories

It was Monday, they were back on-island, and Chuck... was it any surprise that Chuck had gone down to the salle almost immediately? He'd had plenty of gym time on 'vacation', but no time at all to practice his combat skills. Another week of that, and he'd start running the risk of getting rusty.

Which was unacceptable.

This was therefor the second consecutive day he'd gone down to the salle at the crack of dawn, grabbed a bo staff, and assaulted the dummies like it was all he'd ever done in his life. Wasn't good enough - he really needed a sparring partner if he wanted to keep up - but there was something calming and satisfying in getting to release some of this vicious energy again.

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You got used to certain things, in Jaeger Academy. Like getting up at five sharp and spending the next fourteen hours in the Kwoon, working your arse off. Chuck didn't have any instructors now, or any fellow students to practice against-- didn't matter. He'd been slacking for over a week now, waiting for this new school, and it was time to pick things back up again.

Even if he was nursing a minor hangover. In fact, the hangover helped pick up the right level of aggression - that level that he was unleashing on one of the poor practice dummies right now. Going through the forms, hitting at least half of the major ones. Keep going. Keep working at it.

When he got back to the Academy in summer, he had to be in the same shape as everyone else. It didn't matter he'd be forced to stick to a crazy island boarding school, or that his father seemed to have lost his goddamned mind-- he was gonna keep working for it.

Max sat in the corner of the room, his leash tied to one of the benches. Training or not, there was no way Chuck was letting the pup out of his sight.

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