Open Free Lessons in unarmed combat

[Lo'campo]

67, Fall, Sunberth, 514 A.V Lo'campo sat out in the yard of the Sunset Quarter next to his older sister Minerva, and a punching bag that was hanging from a tree limb. The Fall wind blew gently, cooling off the blue man, and slowly rocking the bag back and forth. He couldn't believe that she was making him do this. At first he was reluctant towards the idea, but after hours of lecturing and demanding, he finally gave in. They spent all day for two days posting up flyers stating that he would be giving free lessons in unarmed combat today right were he sat. He wasn't too fond of the idea seeing that he wasn't a people person, while Minerva on the other hand sought to "change his grumpy personality" as she put it. He laid back onto the ground staring up into the tree who's multicolored leaves were now falling at a steady pace onto the cool ground. He was sure that this wasn't going to work, then again this was Sunberth. With all the thieves, gangs, and killers excluding himself, one would jump at the opportunity to learn how to defend themselves for free. He let our a sigh now growing bored of laying in the grass watching leaves fall and got up onto his feet stretching his long body. "What are you doing? Minerva asked gently rolling out of the way of her taller sibling. Standing in front of the bag, Lo'campo gave a feel for it Its was made of leather and stuffed with something soft until the leather was stretched and tight around it's filling. Forming a fist, the Akalak punched the bag making it rock backward before coming back to where he caught it with his hands. The force that came back with the bag was unexpected the Akalak being intrigued with the bag's mechanics. Giving more punches, he pivoted this time letting the bag sway past him, and dealt more punches to the bag making it spin uncontrollably now. "You are having fun with that." Minerva giggled at the cheerful animal like face he made while exercising. Giving a scowl Lo'campo stopped the bag and sat down. Why did she have to be a buzz kill? "Aww did I embarrass youi in front of nobody?" She spoke as if she was talking to a baby before putting the sitting Akalak into a playful hold and rubbing her hand onto his head thus messing up his hair. Shaking her off, he grunted before playfully pushing her over. Two two shot back into a serious mode as someone passed them buy. A potential student? They watched as the tenant of the Quarter walked out into the yard where they sat looking at the punching bag and the two of them thinking on if they would want to try it. "Are you going to stand there or are you going to say something?" Lo'campo blurted, the tenant gave a look then turned and walked away. "Really Lo'? You have to learn to be patient with people. You just can't go around yelling and demanding everyone." Giving a sigh and taking her advice, Lo'campo settled back down waiting for the next person to show.

[Sh'Ky Naes]

The Man in Crimson

Sh'Ky Naes, the Crimson Man, peeled a flyer off of a wall, ripping it gently off the small nails that held it there. Free lessons in unarmed combat? Hm. I'd like to check it out, but anything free in Sunberth is most likely a trap. But still, he reasoned, it would be good to see if this offer was a legitimate one. It'd probably help to know how to defend oneself without a weapon.

As he reached the yard of the Sunset Quarter, which was not all that far away from his home, just a few chimes' walk, he saw two figures sitting near a punching bag. Supposedly, if this wasn't a trap, this was where he could get his lesson. Adjusting his scarf, so that it hung around his shoulders loosely, and pushing up the brim of his hat, Sh'Ky approached the two with an amiable smile. The Akalak looked particularly grumpy, and the Konti especially serious. Looks to be a cheerful bunch... But as he knew, he couldn't just judge anyone by the first meeting. Approaching the Akalak and the Konti, as he grinned, he said, "Hello, sir and miss! I was wondering, are you the two that put up the flyers around the Quarter?" Holding up a flyer to demonstrate, he waited for their response.

[Kechaiya]

Kechaiya crept out of her apartment, adorned in her skirt, shirt, and cloak with the hood up to cover her face. Her dagger was tucked into her skirt, her boots clodding along the dirt. Head kept down, she took one last look at the flier she'd found the day before, trying to keep her nerve about doing this. Her pack was slung over one shoulder, containing her medical supplies, and a few other useful items. She knew this could likely be a scam or trick, but was willing to risk it, for the black eye she sported from a rough customer who didn't wish to pay for being patched up after a knife fight, was a constant reminder that she was weak. She had managed to get a single slash on him, thereby negating the whole transaction, but if she could fight so that she wouldn't get injured, this would never happen again. It wasn't far to the designated location, being in her neighborhood and all. Upon arriving, she saw a large Akalak man, a Konti woman, and another man. She walked up to them, presenting the flier, and in her broken Common, "Teach fight, free?" She had lowered her hood, and looked way, way up at the Akalak, looking him in the eyes. She was not embarrassed or ashamed of her poor language skills, for she was learning to improve them. One did not need perfect Common to sew up stitches or set a broken arm. Her look was fierce and determine, only undermined by the black eye.

[Lo'campo]

A male showed up into the yard first, flier in hand holding it outward. Some one actually showed up, he had to admit that he didn't think anyone would show and he would be sitting in the same spot all day. Standing up from the ground he rubbed the sweat from his hand onto his robe, flipping his hair back Lo'campo introduced himself."Morning, my name is Lo'campo, I will be your instructor. This is my elder sister Minerva" motioning his hand over to the older Konti. He got a good look at the man, human as most were in the city, he stood about 6ft in height with black hair and blue eyes. Lo'campo waited for the man to speak though no words came. Either he was a mute, or just plain rude, either way he had a bad impression of the man already. Carrying on with his evaluation of the man, Lo'campo now circled him looking at his body. Thin, will little sign of fighting muscle. He was going to put in a lot of work if he was looking for a quick results. The sound of footsteps drew his attention to another figure coming up behind him. The body of a person swayed back and forth in a smoother movement than the man's solid walk. He watched as the female made her way up as the male did prior holding up yet another flier, and speaking in bad common. This was great. A mute and some one that barely spoke his language. At least she was better than the man and have somewhat of a decent conversation about the lesson. Doing the same, he inspected the woman's structure, gaining even less of fight in her than the male, but she seemed determined. Reintroducing himself for the woman's sake, and in an attempt for the man to speak and help his instructing. This looked as if it was going to be difficult for Lo'campo, collecting his thoughts before beginning with his teachings. Closing his eyes and taking a breath. "What would father do?" Memories of his childhood training flashed through his mind. This was easy, this was going to be a simple task that would be done before he knew it. Gaining a motivational nod from Minerva, he turned walking toward the still spinning punching bag holding it in place and turning to his students. Ok, the basics". "Unarmed combat, fighting" He spoke slowly and went through the movements for the two. "Isn't all one generic skill. To be a skilled fighter, you will have to fight to your ability." He looked to the students fearing that they wouldn't understand. "You see" he said calling over his small framed sibling. "Because I am bigger and stronger, I can take what I give." Lo'campo hit the punching bag, sending it swinging backwards and letting his return to hit his body. "See?, but if you have someone smaller and lighter." He struck the bag again making it swing back, but allowing[ Minerva to take his place to be struck by the object and knocked to the ground. "You have to know your limitations." He felt silly acting out his words as if he were some performer. Enough talking it was time to get physical. Stepping to the bag, he gave it a strait punch, hard enough to make it shake while soft enough not to make it swing. "Form is everything. It is the line between dealing sufficient damage, or waiting energy. This is the basic punch, it is almost always your first attack. You want to make sure that one it connects, and two it is efficient. A good punch means a greater chance at winning, a bad punch means a greater chance of losing." Demonstrating his words, he motioned for one of them to step up. Shyke, he didn't even know their names. Motioning his hand in the general direction between them, he stepped out of the way so he could observe. A chill ran down his back remembering how his father taught him the same techniques when he was but a lad. Now focusing on his students, he watched.

[Sh'Ky Naes]

The Man in Crimson

"Morning, my name is Lo'campo, I will be your instructor. This is my elder sister Minerva." Smiling and taking a short bow, he said, "Ah, my name's 'Ky. 'Ky Ness, to be exact." The cobalt-skinned warrior man looked peeved, and Sh'Ky didn't know why. He hoped that the pretty Konti would keep him in check, if he got out of hand. Turning as a woman, foreign-looking, with a black eye appeared, he winced as he saw the full extent of the bruise. Quite the shiner she had there. But that wasn't his business. Looking at the Akalak once more, he saw him walk over to a punching bag, still spinning from where he had apparently fulfilled the bag's single purpose. To be punched. With slow movements, as if to dumb down the process for the unskilled.

"Unarmed combat, fighting isn't all one generic skill. To be a skilled fighter, you will have to fight to your ability. You see, because I am bigger and stronger, I can take what I give. See?, but if you have someone smaller and lighter." Hitting the bag, the Konti, Minerva stepped into it's path and got knocked down. "You have to know your limitations. Form is everything. It is the line between dealing sufficient damage, or waiting energy. This is the basic punch, it is almost always your first attack. You want to make sure that one it connects, and two it is efficient. A good punch means a greater chance at winning, a bad punch means a greater chance of losing." So it was all about limitations of the self, Sh'Ky mused. Stepping up, past the Akalak and the Konti, he nodded, a serious look on his face. Clenching his fist with his thumb on the outside, he tried to imitate the big, muscled man's punch as closely as possible.

Fist slapping into the bag, not weakly, yet not enough to move the bag totally, he gulped as his knuckles stung in shock. He hadn't expected that to sting that much. Throwing two more loose punches at the bag, he gave up and looked at Lo'Campo. "I'm sorry to bother ya, but could you tell me what I'm doing wrong?" After all, the man was teaching him a useful skill for free.

[Kechaiya]

Kechaiya listened, able to understand the words perfectly as he said. She knew all about form, though as it applied to medicine, not combat. She liked to think she had good form when it came to stitching, cutting. And it made sense that each person would fight differently. She'd often found herself struggling just to roll patients over. She knew she wasn't strong. But perhaps he could teach her another way of handling herself. Watching him punch the bag, she was impressed at how the bag swung. If that was a person, it would break a rib or two if they weren't ready for it. She wondered if the woman would be teaching her a style she could use, since they were of similar body types. Ebony eyes watching the other trainee strike, she noticed it barely shifted at all. This surprised her, for the man was larger than her, and couldn't even move it. It didn't bode well for the small woman. When she felt it was her turn, she walked up to the bag. She found herself picturing the rough customer from earlier glaring down at her. He had been much larger than her, not full of muscle, but still bulky. She made a fist as she would whenever she got angry. She felt her emotions welling up, the feeling of being defenseless, of being lucky rather than smart or skilled. She wanted to hurt him like he'd hurt. And rather than mimicking the straight punch the instructor had done, her emotions took over. She swung wildly, aiming high to where the man's face would be, in a wild arc. When her fist struck, her wrist buckled, and pain shot up her arm. She hissed out the pain, pulling her wrist in and clutching it. Taking a moment to examine the situation, she felt it with her other fingers. It didn't feel broken, but the pain was quickly abating, as was her momentary anger. She took several deep breaths, and looked back at the bag. And her mental image kept it as a bag. Trying again, this time Kechaiya attempted a straight punch like her instructor had done. It struck the bag, which didn't so much as wobble. But she found it didn't hurt her wrist as it had previously. There was a slight sting of fabric on skin, but it was negligible. She then stepped back, allowing her partner, and instructor their time and space to do as needed.

[Lo'campo]

Wincing at the man's attempt, seeing the pain in his face from hurting his knuckles. Lo'campo knew that pain all too well from his younger days, but gave the man credit for not crying as he had did as a child, or breaking his hand. He watched as the woman took her turn, he didn't expect her to do any better than the male, and wasn't surprised when she hurt her wrist as well . A quick breath to collect his thoughts. They were students, they were unskilled, he had to remember this. "Patience." He knew that it wouldn't be a quick process, and the fact that they weren't Akalak made it more difficult seeing that their smaller body structures were greatly different from each other alone his own. "One moment please?" he requested as he went to consult Minerva on advice. "What is it? I think it's going great." "Yea, but it's different, father and I were the same race and gender. How do I teach human's to fight as an Akalak does if they aren't Akalak?" "You do it as if they were Akalak, just pretend that they are Akalaks with a height disorder or something. Imagination little brother." Giving a look of despair to his elder sister before returning to his students, Lo'campo brought his hands together to try a different approach. "Ok, starting with you." He approached the male. "When you form a fist, you want it to be solid so thumbs in. It makes the punch more whole therefore feeling less pain, and you won't poke yourself in the eye when punching too fast." he half way joked giving a smile. Now parallel to the man, he held up his hands showing the proper way to hold one's fist. Taking a step forward, he went through the motion of a punch, repeating twice in different directions so the male could get a good understanding of it. "Now, while I help her I want you to go and practice on a the tree." He pointed to the large hardwood from which the bag hung. Did it sound weird to send him to spar with a tree? Yes, but unlike the bag the tree would not move as the bag would, and it would help the man focus on his form only as well as harden his hands. It was the way that he had learned from his father. It would gradually accommodate him to punching hard surfaces thus increasing the strength of his punches. Now for the hard part, turning around to face the woman. Approaching her he noticed a large black ring around her eye. Maybe she was a fighter. He thought to himself. For a second he stood there trying to figure out how to make up for the woman's lack of muscle and weight. "One thing at a time Lo'campo, the basics" he told himself. "Straight punch, not arced swing. If this was a real fight, you would have left yourself open for what ever your opponent would have planned." Signalling Minerva over, he had her mimic the woman's movements having her swing her fist out in an arc towards him. Taking his less dominate arm he blocked, slowly moving her arm out of the way and pivoting while bringing his stronger arm and fist up to her face gently resting it on her temple. "Remember, form is everything. I understand that it is different for you because you are female and are not as strong or tough as most male fighter A gasp and slap from Minerva bewildered him. "You stereotypical dunce, just because she is a woman doesn't mean that she can't fight, I remember how I used to pick on you when we were younger before you turned into a giant. Now maybe you chose the wrong words, go...Try again." His eyes shot fireballs at Minerva to which she suffocated them with a devastating look of her own. "What I mean is, you are at a greater disadvantage, because you are lighter and more...fragile? Than the typical fighter. He said glancing at his elder sibling for approval. Gesturing forward, he took hold of her hand folding it into a fist to get a feel for it. Hard, but light. The only thing he could think of that would help her out was if she fast enough to evade attacks then deal some of her own. Releasing her hand, he put up his fists as if he were in battle. "Ok, I am going to attack you, I want you to try not to get hit and to punch me right here in the abdomen. Don't worry it won't hurt me." Pointing to his stomach, he gave swing sending his arms out at a moderate pace. Fast enough to make it seem real, slow enough to not hurt the student if she were to get hit.

[Adrien Strade]

Adrien was walking around the city, humming, when he came across the flyer that advertised of a free lesson in unarmed combat. He was interested right away seeing as it has been harsh lately. Then again, Sunberth was a dangerous place and anything free was always suspicious.

It was very tempting, though. He had gotten a bit lax in his own training and a lesson would certainly do him some good. Besides, he could go check it out and just escape if it does turn out to be a trap.

"Well, well, I see no reason not to go. I'm quite bored right now anyway~" He ripped the flyer from where it was posted and started skipping to the Sunset Quarter's yard.

He arrived to see four people already there and an Akalak seem to already taking care of teaching the students.

"I'm not too late to join, am I?" Adrien said in a voice loud enough for the four to hear.

[Sh'Ky Naes]

The Man in Crimson

Listening intently, Sh'Ky nodded at the Akalak's words. It made sense, he supposed. But in the future, he should be careful. If he hit something with his fingers too hard, he'd break his thumb. Which is why you punched things with your knuckles, he thought.

Giving the man a thumbs up, and removing his cloak and hat, Sh'Ky had his scarf and jacket on, which didn't stop a chill wind from gusting under both, and making him shiver under his thin grey shirt. He'd warm up soon enough. Wait... sword fighting is still fighting, right? And this is most definitely fighting. So maybe... Sh'Ky shifted his feet around, falling into his familiar square stance, which he used to fight with his shortsword. Weight on the balls of his feet, he let a straight punch fly at the hard bark of the tree, scraping his knuckles on the wood a bit. Nothing major, just a little stinging. Switching to his other fist, he brought it up in an uppercut. Now that was a scrape. The first thin layer of skin rubbed raw, 'Ky cursed, and put on his grey fingerless gloves. He didn't warrant it cold enough to use them, but maybe they'd do a passable job of keeping his hands from bleeding everywhere. Launching another punch at the tree, he didn't really notice that all of his punches were stiff and hard, not fluid. An untrained individual wouldn't notice, but someone who was at least competent at the skill...

Sh'Ky heard the new man's voice, but didn't turn around to greet him. He was just too focused.

[Kechaiya]

She nodded at his review of what she'd done. There was a bit of confusion at his use of the word 'open'. How could she be open? Nothing had cut her. Unless he was saying that if she did fight like that, she would be opened up, in which case that would be really bad. Punch straight only, maybe he wanted her arms inward so as to protect her vital organs. That made sense to the doctor. When he demonstrated her action on the woman with him, it then made sense fully to her. She had to protect while attacking, and not sacrifice one for the other. Balance. The two began some sort of argument that she did not understand. There were words she didn't know the meaning of, 'stereotypical dunce' being the predominate one. Listening as carefully as she could, she made out that he thought females were weaker, and she disagreed. None of which mattered to her now. It didn't matter to her, especially because she didn't know how to fight well, so her gender didn't matter. The strong prey upon the weak, regardless of genders. He summoned her forward, and he folded her hand into a fist, a bit less firmly than she held it earlier, but tighter in form. She could feel the bones in her hand compacting to meet this shape, and she knew they were what made fists powerful. The closer together they were, the more the bones acted like a single large solid than many smaller ones. As soon as she saw him raise his hands to attack her, her hand reached to the waist of her skirt for her dagger that was tucked there. It was instinct on her part, but she stopped herself. He wasn't trying to hurt her. He was teaching her. She brought her hand back up, forming a fist once more, like he'd shown her. He wanted her to punch him in the stomach after not being punched by him. Her medically trained mind thought about the damage blows to the abdomen could cause. Striking the diaphragm would disrupting breathing. Striking the stomach would hurt, but wouldn't do much harm unless you were really, really strong. There were ribs to be broken as well, but she knew she didn't have the strength to break bone. Her thinking was interrupted as he punched toward her. Her instinct told her to move away and her body agreed. She ducked down and away, one arm coming up in defense. The fist clipped her though, for she was two slow, glancing off the upper part of her jaw just below the ear. Her raised arm ended up being useless, but remembered he wanted her to punch him. She decided to try and hit his diaphragm, since she didn't think she could do damage anywhere else. Fist gripped tight, she punched her arm forward. It appeared to have struck true, but the taut muscles still hurt her hand on impact. Not like when she hurt her wrist earlier, just pain on the surface. She quickly hissed out a curse in Tawna, one that described the unpleasantness of a woman having sexual relations with a cactus. She then backed up from the instructor, awaiting his review, just now noticing the newcomer.