<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span>
<table class=ooc><tr><td>// <span style='color:8c1d96'>Timestamp</span> \\
<span style='color:4b149e'>Quarter:</span> Mia (Winter)
<span style='color:15389e'>Day:</span> 4th
<span style='color:2670a2'>Year:</span> 81378
// <span style='color:#6A3312'>Aggression Paveumka</span> \\
Primary Trade ¤ Fighting (M)
Secondary Trade ¤ Escape Artistry (M)
Tertiary Trade ¤ Mathematician (M)
Quaternary Trade ¤ Biokinesis (M)
As discussed in the http://shadowlack.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=3027main thread</a>, this is a private thread. Only students listed here may attend the class. (Essentially, if you aren't listed, you can't join. o.o' Sorry, y'all.
Student, Sex, Age ~ Player
Anezka Ylinari, Female, 16 ~ Zeva
*Kutz Agon, Female, 14 ~ kutz
Lyra Avalon, Female, 18 ~ Lautir
*Nárohte Ghadhanfar, Male, 19 ~ Zeva
Sah`Dja Sablestar, Female 22 ~ Rythe
Talon Galdon, Male, 21 ~ Precaution
Temrin Sanjem, Female, 17 ~ crystal_vixen_
Xavier Galdon, Male, 21 ~ Precaution
* Tentative: Tay Ghanhanfar is my character, and will only appear if Kutz appears, or someone else drops out, to make the class even-numbered.
Because there's no ahead of time plotting to have a conversation with Aggy-girl, posting order will be first-come-first serve: post once, and wait until I post again, then we'll continue that pattern until the end. ... Pretty please don't have your character apologize for being late... >_< Since I won't be replying until everyone has replied once, we're going under the assumption that everyone has run into the Tsupeon at the exact same time. Hence, no lateness. lmao. x]
Note: Because this is a fighting class, the more descriptive you are in your actions, the happier I shall be. lmao. "A hits B." just won't cut it. So get them creative juices flowing and have some fun! ^_~
Now, I'll shut the hell up, and get things rolling. haha.</td></tr></table>
Even though it was the beginning on winter, one soul in particular was thrilled. An eccentric pendragon by the alias of Aggression, for few really believed that was her true name, sauntered on all fours with a large, tan, rope-closed sack slung across her back, looking just a bit like a hippie santa of terran lore.
The mostly brown and black 'dragon femme was here to set up class for the fighting students. She'd advertised the lesson quite a bit around the school as an intermediate class, and therefore expected those who showed up to have at least bit of basic skill. At minimum they would have to be able to tell their right paw from their left.
Today green feathers were sprouting out of her hair every which way; three long flight feathers sticking out of the ends of the longest braids, and a few smaller ones poking out of the middle of places they probably found themselves in accidentally. She was decked out as she always was, her knife at her side, her arm guards, and various other trinkets.
The sack, however, held the best mysteries. Depending on who showed up for this class would tell what she would pull from it. This teacher was always unpredictable. She brought the oddest stuff at times, and then perfectly normal supplies at others. Today they would just have to see. She, however, decides to root around in the afformentioned sack for some of the initial items she would be using to start class. Stepping over to one of the smaller fields off to the side of the large jemdrull field in the center, Aggro begins humming to herself some unknown ditty. A lively jig, if there ever was one. (Apparently she was in a very good mood, not that she had ever shown her more fierce side to the student body. Yet.)
Sliding the sack from it's resting place across her spine, the middle aged female settles down upon her haunches and uses her nimble fingers to loosen the rope around the sack's opening. She probably could have gotten a better sack somewhere, something more secure, something better looking, but she wasn't much for being flashy, and the rope closed sack did its job, so she wasn't going to complain. Having opening the sack, and still humming her jig of a tune to herself, she burries a paw in it and fishes around for a bit. Bowing her head to get a better look, she nearly dives into the sack head first, looking for the items she was intent on having before her students arrived.
The first items to be retreived from the sack were several pairs of gloves. They were well padded, and many various sizes, easily fitting the largest pawed male to the dantiest pawed female. These would be used later, however, as they would begin training as quadrupeds. Bipedal movements would come later. Also removed from the sack were numerous pieces of rope, about five feet in length each. What she intended to do with them was anyone's guess. And finally, three containers with varying weights of soft balls approximately four inches in diameter were removed. Each container the balls got slighty heaver, the lightest being a pound, to three pounds, to five pounds. They were filled with tumbled pebbles and cotton stuffing, surrounded by a leather casing. They would never cause any harm to anyone, considering the drill they were to start with, but their weight and material made one quite adverse to wishing to having one of these things impact you on any part of the body. (A well aimed chest through could knock the wind from you if thrown with enough force.)
Satisfied with the set up, she sets the sack aside, though it was far from empty. Assuming they finished with what she initally had planned for their time today, there would be more drills to perform.
Aggression, changing her hum to a whistle, stands in her quadrupedal form, and does a little dance: a hop and a skip. Besides dancing, she was practicing her footwork - footwork was key to fighting. If you couldn't move properly, it wouldn't matter if you could weild a sword or knife: you would never be able to out pace your opponent. But at the time being, there was no opponent to fight, and this wonderfully eccentric professor was just entertaining herself until her class came to call.
And she would hardly cease her dancing and footwork for anyone until she was quite satisfied. Such is the way of the mysterious Aggy.