sixthiterationlogs | 006 ⻰ DOJO MINGLE

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006 ⻰ DOJO MINGLE

WHO: DANNY RAND
WHERE: HOUSE 54
WHEN: JANUARY 19TH
OPEN TO: EVERYONE. MINGLE
WARNINGS: FIGHTING & POSSIBLE INJURY

House 54 looked like any other house except for the rough wooden sign hanging outside on the front porch. It read 'CRANE DOJO' carved in crude letters with Chinese characters carved beneath it reading in tinier font 'Order of the Crane Mother'. Next to that sign was another. This one read 'OPEN' in large carved lettering and if you were to turn it over, you'd find that the other side read 'CLOSED'. If the sun was hanging in the sky, cloudy or clear, the Dojo was open.

The house had been mostly cleared over the months that Danny had lived there. He had installed a door heading upstairs to the living quarters. The kitchen hadn't changed much but the Dining room had been turned into a small medical area while the rest of the house had been emptied. The medical area had the couch that was once in the family room as well as a table and a bookshelf that was filled with what few medical supplies Danny had procured from the inn or the hospital. There was a folding door that looked like it closed off the space but it was currently opened and crumbled against the wall like a fan.

The large areas were separated into two sections with the stairway keeping them divided. The space off to the right of the front door was covered by grass matts that had been stuffed with the material from his mattress. It was firm and Danny would instruct anyone using this space to take off their shoes before stepping on the matts. The second space had the original wooden floors and looked as if it was cleaned regularly. There were three wooden practiced dummies lined along the far wall and a punching bag that was poorly made, filled with dirt and will break if it was punched too hard.

Random equipment could be found on a row of shelves near the stairs or in the closest beneath the stairs. There were several bo staffs, crudely made swords, a pillow meant to be used as a target and a few other odds and ends. Danny was collecting equipment but he didn't have a lot just yet.

Outside was a new addition to the Dojo. The two targets that were used for archery had been moved out of the way and in their place was an obstacle course. It was simple and nothing fancy. If you weren't careful it might be dismantled but it wasn't that bad. Luckily, no one had super human strength to tear his posts out of the ground.

Around the left side of the house had an area that was clearly used to chop wood with a small collection to keep the Dojo warm through winter. The archery targets were also stored there, covered by a sheet similar to the way the wood pile was covered. They could be set up but the only safe place would be a decent distance away from the Dojo. Danny didn't want those training on the obstacle course to become targets to anyone not yet proficient in bows, crossbows or throwing weapons.

The class schedule was still being ironed out but the first two hours after sunrise had the large empty spaces reserved for meditation. Danny wouldn't instruct unless asked but it was assumed that these two hours were the only designated 'quite time' for the Dojo. After the daily lunches at the inn was sparring and by far the most hectic time at the Dojo. Danny laid out the weapons and expected people to use what they wanted and share the space appropriately. He was slowly forming a schedule for classes but this was really the first time that Danny had tried to organize something like this and he had no idea what he was doing. He mostly trusted people to work it out and let him know if he needed to put out formal announcements.

CLASS SCHEDULE

DANNY RAND – Meditation, Martial Arts (Kunlunquan, Shaolinquan, Fujian White Crane, Judo, Aikido, Wing Chun, Ninjutsu, Muay Thai, Karate, Boxing), Martial Arts Weapons (Katanas, Nunchucks, Kama, Throwing Knifes and Stars, Tonfa, Staffs) & General Acrobatics/Stamina Training

NIDA NOMURA – Bo, Polearms & Pole Weapons, Tanbo & General Acrobatics

NATASHA ROMANOFF – Dance Lessons (Hand-to-hand & Actual Ballroom or Ballet Dancing)

BRIGITTE LINDSTORM – Clubs, Hammers, Mace, Baton, Flails, Shields & Boxing

OOC NOTES

[How do you sign up to teach a class?! Please comment here. Times will be loose so that no one gets caught up in silly semantics and we can just have fun! I would prefer for anyone who would like to teach a class to talk to me if they haven't spoken to Danny in game yet. He will need to meet those teaching at the Dojo just because he's a spaz who takes this very seriously.

Anyone is welcome to assume that Danny is teaching them hand-to-hand combat, just give me a heads up so that I know for future reference.

I will be updating the Dojo information on Danny's Sixth Iteration Information page though I might be a little behind. Please send me a PM if there is something there that it looks like I am missing and then it will be free for everyone to use. This post has been organizing a lot of this and getting it together so don't worry about telling me if I missed something.

There is also a notification at the inn on the bulletin board pointing anyone interested in training towards the Dojo.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

MEDITATOIN

It was just after sunrise and Danny could be found in the main area of the Dojo. He was wearing his scrub pants which had turned into his pajama pants and was sitting at the center of the matted room. His back was to the wall and the dragon tattoo on his chest was exposed. His legs were crossed and his eyes closed as she struggled to center his feelings and thoughts.

Rage and temper swirled within him but he suppressed it and exhaled a steady breath.

It was very early in the morning and Danny wasn't expecting people to begin showing up for a few hours.

He began his own training, shifting through different forms and poses. He kept his body both rigid and fluid with his front to the door to see if anyone else was going to come in. The Dojo was completely silent except for the soft rustling of Danny's bare feet against the grass mats.

HAND-TO-HAND CLASSES/SPARRING

"What can I help you with?"

Danny had a few people that he had already arranged to teach and a few people who he sparred with from time to time. His schedules were fluid and often changed with the events of the village but he tried to keep his regularly daily habits predictable so that people could find him. He was Ironfist but that title meant less here than it had back in New York.

The Dojo was his new purpose. He'd train and he'd teach.

When he wasn't teaching or sparing, he was standing against the wall of the Dojo watching its occupants. His arms were crossed over his chest and his expression was severe as he studied those practicing. He knew everyone who used the space and watched to varying degrees to see what people knew. More often than not, he found himself making mental notes of who should spend more time sparring together and who would benefit most learning beneath him or one of the other teachers.

He wanted to uphold a high standard but he couldn't help but hear Colleen's voice ringing harshly in his head. The Dojo could be a safe space but Danny had no idea how to do that.

WILDCARD

(>-.-)>----------------()_)

Edited 2019-01-21 19:58 (UTC)

Sam didn't approach Danny until the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. In part, because she didn't want to distract him. And in part because it was interesting to watch him, to watch the way he interacted with the others. She would sometimes tease him about being a little clueless. About being a cute, dumb boy. But it was different to watch him so in his element. She figured it would be about the equivalent of him watching her map out a genetic sequence. Context was what made a person the person that they were.

She was intrigued by this other person.

Also, there was the fact that she didn't particularly want to do any sort of sparring in front of other people. She was learning fast, but she wasn't exactly at fighting class yet. And her pride dictated that if she was going to have her ass handed to her, she'd rather it happen without an audience.

So she waited. And watched.

And it was only as the last stragglers left the Dojo that she made her way over to Danny, setting her staff down and leaning against it, one hip popped. "Well, you've got quite the business for yourself, Daniel Thomas Rand."

Danny winched. "Do you have to say my full name?" How did she even remember his full name? "It makes me sound like I'm in trouble." He ran his hand over his dirty blond curls before glancing around the Dojo. Everyone was gone but he felt the residual energy from the days activity.

"And thanks." He closed the front door after flipping the OPEN sign to CLOSED and then turned towards Sam. Everything was more or less cleaned up, which mean he was done for the day.

"You've been improving." He'd been watching her.

Of course he'd been watching her.

She laughed a little, making a note to herself to call him by his full name more often. It seemed to make him even squirmier than 'Monkey Boy.'

Which she was also resolved to call him. Until the end of time, pretty much.

"Dude, I used to set the curve on my gym finals," she said, picking up the staff to follow him. "I'm not about to quit being a straight-A student just because I'm trapped in a clown rodeo."

Very lightly, she extended the staff, holding it at shoulder level across his chest, nudging him slightly to look at her. "And I'm not above being teacher's pet," she added, both eyebrows vanishing behind the fringe of her wig.

Foggy is mostly there because he's nosy.

Nosy on many levels. About a dojo, sure. About Danny, yeah. About whether or not it's worth trying to drag Matt here to get him out of the house and interacting with people.

He doubted Danny would remember him or that he'd heard anything of him despite having a few overlapping acquaintances. So he just looked about, assessing the blind proofing on the place and pondering if the saw dust that would be produced by the woodworking would be suitable for a punching bag.

Danny had met a lot of people from his version of New York but he didn't have the memories to put faces and names together. Everyone was a stranger and it was only mildly alarming that they knew him. He had run into Matt shortly after the mans arrival and they'd talked but Danny hadn't felt like pursing his future had been wise. He hadn't been avoiding Matt but he hadn't been looking for the blind man either.

Foggy was a complete stranger to him.

"Need help with anything?" He asked from his perch on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He was watching Foggy with a curious arc to his eyebrow. The layer really didn't look like much of a fighter.

"Constantly," Foggy mutters, then remembers to be people and turns and smiles. "You probably don't remember me, but we met at the police station during the Midland Circle incident." Incident. Yeah. That's a good term for it. "Franklin Nelson and I'll be honest, I'm more here for Matt than myself."

Anne hadn't forgotten their conversation at the mansion. Once she notices the Dojo is open, she stops by and steps in, taking a look around before spotting Danny and walking over.

"Hello Danny, I thought I'd stop by for some beginner's training." She's wearing clothing fit for movement, and she's left her bulky winter wear at home. "Also,
turns out we're neighbors."

His expression was serious until she mentioned the neighbor thing. "Wait, really? How long has that been the case?" He glanced out the door and spotted the house nearest to his. He really didn't know where anyone lived since he didn't venture to far away from the Dojo.

It was neat.

"But yeah. Let's start. Do you have any training?"

She nods towards the yellow house across the street.

"I moved in maybe a month after arriving? It'll be a hub for the knitters and the weavers and the like when I'm finished, but not something so extreme as this. I like what you've done with this house."

"So, what do I need to know about martial arts?"

Familiarity brought Maine into the dojo. Not familiarity with the building, the owner, or — as far as he knew — any of the occupants. His familiarity was with the sound. Combat was like a siren's call to the space marine; Maine heard it, and he followed.

What he found wasn't combat. Not exactly. It was training. People he didn't know spread out on mats with a stern-looking man overseeing it all. Not like the training room back on the Mother of Invention, but still so familiar that the massive Freelancer felt something in his chest ache.

It might have been a private gathering. It might've been polite to leave, or at least to ask if he could stay. But Maine wasn't known for being particularly polite. And fuck, he'd missed this.

When the stern stranger addressed him, Maine's gruff answer was immediate: "Training."

It was no small thing to ask. Maine was seven-feet-tall, broad-shouldered, and built like he could easily run straight through a wall. Everything about him — from the way he held himself to the callouses on his hands and the scars marring his knuckles — spoke of restrained strength and experience with violence. And now, he wanted to train here.

Edited (words are difficult) 2019-01-23 10:59 (UTC)

Danny eyed the man curiously. He didn't know Maine and he didn't remember seeing him around the Inn but he supposed he didn't really spend a lot of time outside of the Dojo nowadays.

"I'm Danny Rand." He figured he should get that out of the way before he forgot.

"Do you have previous training?" He already knew the answer to that question. Danny could see it in the way that he carried himself but he had to know what Maine knew in order to know where they were going to start. So far everyone had been different and since there wasn't much of a medical center, they had to be careful of injuries.

It would've been easy to miss Maine at the Inn. He stopped by only briefly, and he had never stayed the night. The house he'd claimed was in the North Village, as far removed from the rest of "civilization" as possible without outright abandoning it. The Freelancer wasn't a social creature by nature — his intensely paranoid teammate, who arrived shortly after him and quickly moved in, was even less so.

But the appeal of the dojo was immediate and undeniable. So Maine didn't so much as blink at the man's open curiosity. And, when Danny offered his name, Maine was quick to do so in turn.

"Maine."

No "Agent" preceding it, and no "Freelancer" preceding that. Just Maine.

Danny's second question received a slight eyebrow raise before Maine nodded. Yeah, he had previous training. It took him a moment to realize that the other man might want a more detailed explanation. When he did, he grunted out, "Boxing. Wrestling. Others."

... Very detailed, indeed.

Staff Training
Sam and meditation weren't exactly friends. So she didn't arrive at the Dojo until later in the day, after she'd finished a few batches of her disgusting vodka. Instead of wearing her wig, she pulled her hair into a tight braid and fastened it across the crown of her head, covering the whole thing with a kerchief, so it couldn't be seen. As much as she couldn't bring herself to focus on inner peace, she was super into destroying people's outer peace, at the moment. Especially the Overlords, who she had a tendency to picture as her opponents as she practiced her maneuvers.

They all had mustaches.

Danny had given Sam a personal staff for the holidays and she was determined to figure out how to use it. She wasn't quite up to the challenge of sparring, but she continued to repeat each position she'd learned.

Over and over and fucking over again.

The Kindred were known for their ability to adapt fairly quickly. It was social Darwinism in an ever-changing world. And Sam was starting to get some elegance and grace to her form. She wasn't exactly Olympics-ready just yet. But still. Not too fucking shabby.

French Girls
When she wasn't getting her ninja on--or maybe her Ninja Turtle--Sam stacked a few of the tumbling mats on top of each other and lay down on her stomach. She had her notebook open and was carefully sketching out the different positions for the staff. Or, more accurately, drawing pictures of Danny in each stance. At first, she'd just thought of it as a nice, quick reference. The problem was, Sam absolutely couldn't abide the idea of stick figures. So now it was an art project.

And each drawing got more and more detailed.

It hadn't exactly been her plan to draw Danny like one of her French girls, but these things happened.

At least she'd be able to stop annoying the instructors every three seconds to ask for a refresher on how to hold her hands. In theory, anyway.

Wildcard
[OOC: Sam is just...around. Feel free to challenge her to a race or humiliate her in a spar or something.]

His life, Nida resolved to believe, was a bit of a mess. Had been for a few weeks now, and that really only meant one thing. There was only one proper way to address all the thinking he was avoiding, and that was in the tried and true Garden method: training. Which of course meant him being in the dojo more than once today, and definitely for a lot longer than he normally would care to try for. It meant that after a break to eat in the inn, he'd eventually found himself back here in the dojo. And look, this time it was occupied by a familiar face from a schoolhouse search for color.

"Hey Lady Blue," he greeted as he pulled off his cold weather gear and left it in a pile by the door, soon following it with his shoes and then pulling his bo from the makeshift rope sling he'd made for it so he'd always have it on his back. "You've got just a touch too little bend on your left leg there."

While he couldn't comment much on training other people had started with her, what their preferences or schools of training were, he could definitely see when a stance was just a touch weak.

For all of the pride that Sam had, she was also sensible when it came to learning. As with any new skill, it was key to take advice from those who knew better. It was the only way to improve. And, of course, it helped when they weren't know-it-all jackasses. Which Nida decidedly was not. So the second he gave her the comment, she immediately adjusted her stance. "Like this?"

She hoped Nida wouldn't get used to her being accommodating.

It wasn't going to last.

But for the moment, she glanced over her shoulder at him, tilting her head to one side.

Like he was at all someone who looked for accommodating in people. It just wasn't realistic. Still, once he's down only to his workout pants and tank-top he approaches her on the mat to look over the weight on her legs.

"Looks better but... If it's okay I want to put the heels of my hands against your shoulders for just half a moment. A bit of light pressure just to see if the stance is right. If it is, I won't be able to make you sway off balance. The bend in your knees and hips will absorb it naturally. Is that cool?"

First rule of things like this? Never ever touch without an okay from the person you're working with. Especially if they aren't your student.

"Go ahead," Sam said, although she was already trying to adjust on her own. Sam had a lot of weird places, but touch really wasn't one of them. Truth to tell, she sort of craved it. Probably some hangover from being passed around like a rotten salami as a baby, or some other shit.

...rotten salami? Where the fuck had that come from?

She really needed to try getting some sleep.

"So," she said, to take her mind off of the painful simile, "is this the sort of skill you picked up in mercenary school?"

"Yep," Nida agrees as he raises his hands to push as he indicated. And there is enough hold in her stance that he nods his approval. "Been combat training since I was ten, polearms specifically since twelve. I'm assuming you're learning under Danny?"

Different styles entirely. Which he was willing to take in stride and minimize his corrections for her. Mostly because Danny's style boggled the mind. But they'd had their out and out about that already, leaving Nida untouched in their sparring. At least he'd proven he was effective.

Danny Rand -- Open To All

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Wild card because like hell he's taking classes...

Lol, I love it

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Hand to Hand

Hand to Hand

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hand-to-hand

hand-to-hand

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Samantha Moon | OTA

Staff Training

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Nida | OTA

Brigitte | closed to Maine

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