Throwing it Back

[attr="class","fallen"]A dull thud echoed through the room as the arrow struck home, vanishing only to be replaced by three more, then six, then nine, then twelve. Volley after volley, each one more dense than the last, made contact with the target on the far side of the room as the woman known as Valkyrie continued firing. Her record currently was ninety, and she was pushing for one hundred and twenty by the end of the week. Nothing got a job done fast than turning the target into a pin cushion. By this point her draws were so dense it looked like she was just pulling back on a bright pink cylinder each time, every arrow impossibly close to one another, a few even phasing into or lying almost directly on top of another arrow as she continued to draw back. The string snapped back, the metal rectangle that connected the string to the front of the bow firing forward with force similar to a handgun being fired.

Lily was wrapped in her own Ki, light pink wispy trails radiating off of her, and multiplying as a by-product of the level of use she was putting her primary ability through. Arrows were cheap on her, thankfully, though they got more taxing when she got over sixty. She pulled back once more, taking a mental tally of the number she was at during this draw. Eighty-four, she recited silently, her muscles screaming at her as she let the volley fly. She pulled back again, the faintest pressure beginning to build at the base of her skull as she pulled back, the next volley materializing during the motion. Eighty-seven. Release. Fire. Breathe in. Draw.

Ninety.

Release. Fire. Breathe. Draw.

Ninety-three. The effort was becoming a physical weight, and her arms threatened to tremble and throw off her stance. The pressure in her skull had shifted to yet more aching in her body. Exhaustion this time. Fun, she thought sarcastically as she let the volley fly. An arrow flew stray, just barely hitting the target. She clicked her tongue. There went her flawless accuracy, but it was a record-breaker nonetheless. She took another deep breath, drawing back on the string more slowly. It was a smooth draw until seventy, but then she had to slow down. Eighty... Eighty-five... Ninety... Ninety-one.. Ninety-two... Ninety-three...

Ninety-six, Valkyrie stated to herself, her arm snapping back as the bow locked into its full draw. Exhaustion threatened her like a thick blanket, and she took a deep breath to steady herself before letting the volley fly. She held form for a few more moments before breaking. Her breathing was heavily, and she dropped to her knees after another couple of seconds, suddenly lightheaded from her efforts. Ninety-six. It was better, but she still needed higher. Her goal was sixty in the field and double that on that range. She always doubled her field score when she was on the range. She rarely managed to meet it, but it gave her something to push towards.

Currently her field volley could hit thirty-five, while moving, before it gave her issues. Standing still she could hit fifty, but those were assuming an easy target. If her target was moving with her she could still lock in quite a lot, probably more than the thirty-five if she was the only one moving, but if her target was moving and she wasn't... well.

It was normally just better to use one at a time and not try to show off if you didn't know whether the shots would be a sure hit. She stared at her bow where she held it in her lap, taking slow breaths as she allowed herself to recover. She'd been a few arrows shy of her limit, that much was obvious now.

She faintly registered the sound of someone else joining her in the room, but she didn't bother glancing over. She was too busy trying to A: Not throw up, and B: Get to seeing in color again, as it was at that moment she was hit with the full brunt of the exhaustion, and as such she was feeling mighty dizzy.