Lightning Strikes Twice

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// <span style='color:3D0707'>Timestamp</span> \\
<span style='color:690000'>Quarter:</span> Tessera
<span style='color:690000'>Day:</span> 20th
<span style='color:690000'>Year:</span> 81377

// <span style='color:#6A3312'>Aggression Paveumka</span> \\
Primary Trade ¤ Warrior (M)
Secondary Trade ¤ Escape Artist (M)
Tertiary Trade ¤ Mathematician (M)
Quaternary Trade ¤ Biokinesis (M)​

\\ OOC: As said in the description line for the thread this RP if private and only meant for a few specific players. (This is not a 'clique thing', either, we just don't want it huge, and there'll be a bunch more classes after this one. So no worries! You aren't being left out. hehe. )  The invited know who they are, so jump in when you're ready, guys! =D

\\ IC

The brand new teacher to the prestigious school strolls into the stadium, properly named in ramathian, The Tsupeon. Many things were named in ramathian when their importance was great enough.

The skylight above let in no sun today, for the sky was black - even though it was only a little after noon. Dark clouds had rolled in over the previous days and finally their bellies split open, pelting the roof with the din of water on glass. Lightning bolts gave an eerie gleam to the empty stadium every now and then.

Even so, the stadium was amptly lit. Aggro sets her sights on the left of the two little fields off to the side of the main Jemdrull field. Today she was to teach her first class - fighting.

The Principal had been kind enough to allow her a trial run, so to speak, and fighting was what she had decided on first. The trial run was to judge both her competency, and to garner any information about her current state of mind. Not that she was certifiable, naturally, but she had rather odd ways of teaching with generally included putting her students in harms-way. To her credit, none of her students have suffered more than a rug burn and a black eye. But her style still wasn't well appriciated among school boards and disgruntled parents.

Thus, her class was to be small. Approximately four young adults were to show this adult what they knew in sparring, and maybe learn a trick or two before the class was over.

Aggression trots across the small field, a pack slung over her black and brown hued shoulders. Inside the pack were several small daggers. Why? Her students would soon find out. At one end of the field she'd requested five targets be set up. And there they were, each disk nailed vertically to a pole several feet off the ground. The disks were ringed in traditional Janardan colors: gold, red, and white. The center circle was gold, the pattern alternating colors 'til the edge.

Also in her pack lay several hand and wrist guards and varying sizes. Aggro had her own, which she wore almost constantly. Each were made out of some type of hide, and most had been tanned and de-furred enough to be considered thick leather. Suede was too easy to cut, and leather one would wear as a statement of your status was also too easy to slice.

Smiling, she sits down, the golden flight feathers interwoven in her hair fluttering by themselves at the movement. Now she had set up everything for the weapons. Aggro was not adept at anything but the dagger, but it was a useful weapon, considering you could throw one much quicker than a full length sword.

In addition to the dagger training she had planned, she intended to discover their length of training. Perhaps spar with them herself, watch their form, or have them pair off. Maybe all three?

Really, though, all she had to do now, was wait. And wait she would. ... But not like an impatient mother. No. She'd practice her own knife throwing tricks while she waited for them all to arrive.

Standing approximately twenty-five feet away from the first target, Aggro whips out her blade strapped to her thigh in one silent movement, spins quickly, like a discus thrower to gather momentum, and lets the blade fly.

A sharp thwock is her reward, as the blade dives into the direct center of the target up to the hilt. Grinning like a giddy 500 year old, she prances to the target to retrive her dagger. Wiggling it back and forth, she frees it, and returns to her starting position.

She returns her blade to it's place on her side and retrieves some of the smaller blades from the bag. From this point on, she just heaves them at the target, so they doesn't bury themselves more than half the length of the blade. She didn't want to ruin the wooden target. Well. Save that first momentum-aided throw to show off for any spectres on the empty stadium.

The light thk of each impact is a constant rhythm ten times in a row, until she runs out of the narrow throwing knives, and must retrieve them all. But she continues in this fashion, keeping herself busy, ignoring the pelting rain a silent flashes of lightning (followed by rumbling thunder) against the glass roof above, while she waits for her very first students.</font>

 

<font color='6C6C6C'>Aggro turns to look at the maker of the original voice, as she had heard the approach quite clearly. Not disappointed in the least in the first of her students, as this one would make a decent tracker, spy, thief.. assassin. Whatever a trade would require silent and invisible movement.

<span style='color:#6A3312'>"Thank you! Can't hit a damn thing with any other weapon, but daggers and knives are quite my thing."</span> She grins. Thank Saeroth for his hours of patience as she painstakingly learned to throw and nail a rapidly moving target, and he didn't so much as grimace. Well. Maybe once..

She nods at the question as well, right after pitching another of the lightweight knives at the target, <span style='color:#6A3312'>"Yes, if you all are interested, I do believe I'll help you along on your way to throwing and nailing bull's eyes, assuming you aren't already masters at such a trick."</span> Looking at her student, the earth-hued 'dragon's muzzle turns slyly to a coy grin, then her focus turns back to the target as another knife finds it's mark imbedded near the center; just like the rest.

Throwing acurately really was a good skill to have, even if your trades were along the more delicate nature of things. Flinging objects at your significant other's head and not missing was always satisfactory!

Just then she notices the first 'dragon she'd met when approaching Janardan's underground halls - Lyra. <span style='color:#6A3312'>"Nice to see you, too, Lyra! And no, Aggro is just fine. I don't think I could handle being called ma'am.."</span> her face contorts mildly as she thinks on the idea of the term. Far too refined for one the likes of herself, to be sure!

Aggression turns back to the original arriver, and setting down her knives, she extends a furred hand, <span style='color:#6A3312'>"Easiest to call me Aggro, as my full name is both a mouthful and sometimes intimidating. But for knowledge sake, I'm Aggression Paveumka."</span> Though she hardly believes her given name would scare any of these students off, she preferred her nickname, as 'Aggression' tended to startle the young. No need to encourage rumors; there would be plenty of time for horror stories of how she got her name to be passed from the graduating Journeymen to the fresh young Basics.

<span style='color:#6A3312'>"And what am I to call you?"</span> She asks the caramel colored spy-to-be with a happy smile.

Two students had arrived, and she couldn't wait to meet the remaining.</font>

 

<font color='6C6C6C'>Aggression grins quite broadly at Okkie's full name, liking it instantly, <span style='color:#6A3312'>"Your mother must have had a fun time creating your name!"</span> she chuckles. She doesn't mention her own mother's reasons for picking her name.. but then, she wasn't an open book when it came to her past.

She notices as two more students trail in, just as another bolt of lightning flashes in the sky above. A silent male, and another cheery femme.

<span style='color:#6A3312'>"Good afternoon to you, Sirius! Even though it doesn't seem too much like an afternoon, does it?</span> the mud colored pendragon's head and neck crane towards the skylight above, and the pelting rain on the glass.

Having been around many 'dragons in her lifetime, she was rather good at reading personality types off the bat. The solitary male she pegged as being reserved and possibly even stoic. She smiles warmly, and in appropriation to his assumed persona, she tones down her bubbly giddiness a bit, so she can appear a bit more respectable, and not like a complete airhead, <span style='color:#6A3312'>"Afternoon to you, as well! Who might you be?"</span>

Looking between Kiku and Sirius, she introduces herself, <span style='color:#6A3312'>"Name's Aggro; Aggression Paveumka. Probationary teacher. You're all trapped here for about an hour, so I do hope you enjoy it!"</span> she winks.</font>

 

<font color='6C6C6C'>Aggression grins at Okkie, and mentions in an undertone, <span style='color:#6A3312'>"That, then, we have in common."</span> She kept her true name secret. But as a young adult, fighting her way up in ranks, and gaining respect in Bhim, a name like hers went quite a ways to giving enemies belly splitting laughter. ... And then their bellies split another way, and the laughter ceased. What a morbid thought!

Turning to all her students, she waves her empty left paw in the direction of the sack on the floor, <span style='color:#6A3312'>"Quite right, Sirius. And I'm sure you all had guessed the same, as well. Off you go then, find some wrist guards that fit, if you please, for both arms. If you all are talented enough at throwing, we might get into some light fighting with them."</span>

Sitting down while she awaits their progress, problems, or complaints, she considers the possible training techniques. Each of her students were of different size, and paw size. Naturally, they'd all have a range of dexterity, and then she'd have to ask if they were natural pawed, south pawed, or ambidexterous. Length from the target also denoted how one would hold the knife or dagger.

All of these things she'd ask of her students. Once they'd properly donned the attire fit for throwing.

Pursing her lips she points to the knives strewn about, <span style='color:#6A3312'>"Oh! And once you've found a pair of wrist guards, go ahead and take both a weighted dagger and at least three or so knives. I'm pretty sure I brought enough for all of you."</span> Aggro smiles, and grabs the knives she was using. Walking over to the pile of knives, she sets them out, careful not to clash the blades too much.</font>

 

<font color='6C6C6C'>Quite proud of the four in gathering their guards and weapons, she smiles to herself. She had personally chosen the daggers and knives to bring along, so she knew they were for the most part weighted properly and evenly. She had watched each one as they selected their daggers and knives, and whether they had experience in picking weapons previously, or they chose each one innately, they all did well.

Three of the four, the females, specifically, had started throwing, while Kiku seemed awaiting further instruction. Which was only natural, as she hadn't told anyone to throw, but she really didn't care! Their throwing right off the bat proved their desire to learn [or show off], and doubly allowed her to watch their form.

Aggression looks at the ladies of the quartet, and grins, <span style='color:#6A3312'>"Go ahead and get your knives, but please, don't throw while someone's retrieving their knives. Not that I don't trust your aim; it's rather good, but on the off chance something happens, no one wants me to catch the rap for murdering a student."</span> she chuckles; she didn't bother phrasing it as if they would get in trouble. She was a bit too protective of them, even already, to allow that to happen.

<span style='color:#6A3312'>"Once you feel ready for some pointers, feel free to ask. Some like to learn by trial and error until they get repeated success, others like to learn by guidance, so I leave it to you to decide whether you want my help or not."</span> she winks. That's the one reason she was popular among those she commanded, be it in clan, military, or scholarly setting: she was never one to brow beat anyone, or torment them with advice unwanted.

Aggro then looks at the patiently waiting Kiku and smiles, <span style='color:#6A3312'>"Have you ever thrown before?"</span> If so, she wouldn't bore him with details, and just allow him the freedom to choose when and how to throw. If not, she'd give specialized attention, so he wouldn't feel left out, embarrassed, nor overwhelmed with the task.</font>