3977/Thursday at Chikara Dojo

Thursday at Chikara Dojo
Date of Scene:	29 October 2020
Location:	Chikara Dojo
Synopsis:	Colleen gets unexpected visitors and may be a new teacher to help with the kids classes.
Cast of Characters:	Johanna Mitchell, Katsumi Oshiro, Colleen Wing, Alexander Aaron

---

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    It's a chilly Autumn day. The green has been chased and eaten away from the scarce amount of trees that that stand singularly within the area. They're lonely things. Guarded by minitaure fences to protect their trunks, small bastions of nature within the seedier, inner part of Chinatown. The dried limbs, boughs, and twigs cling to the orange and yellow leaves that fetter precariously in the wind, clutching them for modesty as a woman might clutch a towel to their body upon stepping out of the shower. They'll be in full exposure soon as the season drifts closer toward Winter.
    Such is the state of affairs outside. It's bitter. It's cold. It's miserable, and people huddle in their jackets on the streets as they move from point A to point B.
    Johanna, as she traverses -this- particular street, finds herself in a state of regret. A tank-top only goes so far to protect against the elements! Her hands are stuffed deep, deep inside of her khakis, her fists balled and looking conspicuously like she's got oranges or some other type of round fruit hidden away. Her flesh gooses up and down her arms and shoulders, but she stops for a moment in front of an old dwindling brick section along a street of shop entrances to spy... a sign. The 'Chikara Dojo' sign.
    She stands there, staring at it, canting her hand this way and that. Occasionally, her eyes drift toward the entry way, her brows furrowing together in thought.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Tanktops are a bad choice for cooling weather. Cut-off tanktops are possibly even worse. But when one has an image to protect, one makes sacrifices! Besides, the tanktop is unapologetically cool - sporting a trio of 'slashes' across the chest that don't actually reveal anything more than an additional layer of fabric beneath. An exposed midsection out here isn't ideal, but come on. Slashes. A pair of hiphugging short shorts aren't doing anyone any favors today, either - long legs bared to the chilly breeze.

Katsumi is from Japan, however. They deal with their share of cold weather. And this isn't her first rodeo! She is, however, exceptionally aimless today. Her oddly-colored eyes are trained on her feet, lost miles deep in her own thoughts. It's with a certain practiced grace that she bobs and weaves around bodies milling along the sidewalk; there's an ebb and flow to it, bodies in motion, like reading the current of the river. It's when one is halted in front of her that it breaks that rhythm and upsets the balance. The young Japanese diva catches herself just a foot from Johanna, pumping her heel against the asphalt to halt her forward momentum.

Naturally, all of this is Johanna's fault.

"Hey! Sidewalks are for walking! It's in the name!," she fusses, expression pinched in superficial annoyance.

Colleen Wing has posed:
Chikara Dojo's exterior is nothing to write home about, unless you wanted to talk about the downfall of American society. Exposed brick, pipes, an old wooden door with peeling paint. China town has it all. The newest feature on this section of the building is the sign for Chikara Dojo.

There are some open windows above and the sounds of stick hitting stick can be heard, as well as the occasional ki-ai. It sounds like a dojo and it sounds like there are people up there. Those are usually good signs. Chikara Dojo has gathered a reputation that has slowly been expanding beyond China Town as one of the best places to learn 'real martial arts' without jumping in to an MMA ring.

Upstairs, Colleen is in her gi with only one other student and the two have bokken in hands. She is demonstrating corkscrew motions with her body and how that relates to the sword, having her student attack and cutting the sword powerfully in to the mats with a fluid motion. There is an in-depth discussion on-going (with almost all students really) about letting the weapon carry its momentum, rather than forcing things with muscle. The student is wearing a black belt, but they look young. Colleen's blackbelt is frayed and old now. She has been considering replacing it for a new one.

The dojo inside is nicely set up - weapons on the wall, mats are new but slightly worn from training. Practice dummies made of wood in the corners, as well as a wooden support beam in the middle with shown signs of ware from people practicing strikes against it. There's a toilet and another room covered by a sheet which is where her office / kitchen / ..and bed are.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
     Of course it's Johanna's fault. Just like it's a speedbumps fault for being in the way when a car rolls over it. It's the natural flow of things. People milled about her and minded their own business, and so she is completely oblivious to the idea that she might have just gottened mowed over by a--Hey! It's someone dressed in less clothes than herself!
    Johanna's eyes brighten, catching the sunlight beyond clouds that mist the sky and she folds over on an arm theatrically. And loathe as she is to bring her exposed limbs away from a place of warmth against her body, she gestures toward the winding sidewalk that expands far beyond her as she steps in back toward the red brick that lines the wall of the dojo. "My apologies," she croons, her hair all swapped down and over her head like a mop hanging upside down--erm, a very short mop. It's a pixie cut, after all. "I forgot my big broad yellow do-not-walk-on-me jacket. forgive, forgive!" All said in humor. All done with dimpled (and unseen) smiles. "But you see, I was admiring this fair piece of architecture here. I was looking for the Chikara Dojo, and I suppose I've found it--I mean," she's straightening back out again. And rattling. Her mouth just keeps moving and words just keep spilling out. Someone should stop her. "--well, I've obviously -found- it. I was thinking it might be a bit bigger. It's so small. Tiny. And compact."
    There's a pause. She glances toward the Japanese wrestler. Her lips twist in a crooked grin. "Like you."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Though she isn't showing it outwardly, the theatrics are amusing. Endearing, even. People who don't take themselves /too/ seriously are always the more fun to work with, even if she's giving them a hard time. Heck, /especially/ if she's giving them a hard time. She, however, turns her head aside and slightly uptilts her chin in an affectedly indignant manner. If this other woman is going to play up begging her pardon, she'll play up being Madame Superior. Though the mention of the dojo gets a curious glance over as well. She's never been that interested in hardcore martial arts - only as much as she needed to complement her own fighting. But it's always been at least distantly interesting.

Suddenly, her gaze snaps back to Johanna. "What!?," she balks, oddly-colored eyes widened. "I'm like /barely/ shorter than you!"

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    Johanna touches the top of her head--again, an action she is reluctant to do. Bare arms in a chilly breeze just absolutely suck, and if the Japanese diva had any sort of investment with inspecting the tomboy she'd see that her arm is completely goosed, from shoulder to forearm, with each and every invisible hair sticking up like small exclaimation points. Anyways. Touching the top of her head (with her shoulders pinched together, tellingly), she makes a straight cut over the top of Katsumi's head and lets it linger there, relishing the full, and entire inch of space of air-way she gets.
    "So short," she repeats, and she drops her chin down toward her chest in a severe nod at the self-made prognosis.
    Then she pivots. Again, she stares at the dojo sign. Again, she stuffs her hands into her pockets. Again, she becomes the veritable speed-bump in the middle of the sidewalk--this time, with Katsumi in tow. "Anyways. Yeah. I found this place by the website."
    ...
    Her head swivels back toward Katsumi. "I'm going in."
    Johanna walks forward to the row of three doors. The vertical metal slats are touched first, skimmed with her palm. The door to the left of it is given a test by the knob. It rattles, but no dice. Her nose wrinkles in consternation as she tries the third door that's present--Bingo! It gives to her rattling twist. A wink is given to Katsumi and she begins to ascend the stairs that lead up to the dojo.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A bit further down the street, on the other side and pausing on the edge of the sidewalk, Alexander Aaron begins to prepare for his life of crime as he hovers there so close to an ever so rude episode of jaywalking. He waits or a car to go by, then another, and then he makes his casual token jog half-dash out into the street, stepping around a bike messenger on their way and then back onto the sidewalk a good block and some down he ways from the dojo and where Johanna ended up wandering to, coincidentally where Katsumi also seems to be even as the two women have what could be reasonably called 'words'. Yet he isn't close enough to hear, nor close enough to discern the tension that may or may not exist. Instead he wends into the wandering crowd, slipping past those walking by and making his own approach to Chikara dojo.

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
The young foreigner lowers a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow as Johanna seems to self-evaluate with a palm over her head. And then that palm courses forward, and brought to a hover above her head. The dubious expression shifts to one of confusion; this is not normal behavior where she comes from! But she stands there in momentarily stunned silence as the obvious, if tiny, gap of distance is put on full display for a public who couldn't possibly care less.

So short.

"Ahn!," yelps Katsumi, as if the assertion were somehow an incredible slight. "Wh- I am not-! You-!"

She announces she's going in.

Katsumi continues to stand there, mouth agape and flummoxed. The door gives, and the 'offender' begins her 'retreat'.

"Hey! You can't just- just try to gaslight me like that and get away!," she flounders.

And just like that, she hurries after her in pursuit - likely to catch her just in time when they reach the next landing to dejectedly assert, "I'm /tall/ for a Japanese girl, y'know."

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    "I can't? I'm doing it right now," Johanna taunts. The footfall of her feet against the creaking steps can be heard out against the nearby street. Step. Step. Step. Each one of them marks a full six or so inches of distance that the tomboy has gained in her grand get-away.

    Johanna hits the next landing, and her dark eyes are cast upward curiously. In some respect it's like being a child exploring an abandoned woodshed in the wild. See, she has meta knowledge. She'd found the Chikara Dojo by looking it up on her phone beforehand. So she's heard the reviews. Seen the reddit posts. This is the place people go in New York city to learn the for-real shit. Or so RedHardArts12 had claimed. Knowledge from such a name cannot be questioned.
    She does not look at Katsumi as she bounds up onto the landing with her, but rather, already has her hand skimming on the railing for the next flight of steps. She does, however, begin to grin. Wide enough that if Katsumi is at least abreast she'll see the gleam of teeth showing beneath nude lips. "I'm sure that's really impressive in Japan. Are you a tourist? But shhh, I think I can hear stuff going on upstairs."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A few strides behind, enough to glimpse the two young women heading to the door and the dojo, clambering up the stairwell... Alexander Aaron is just a minute behind, perhaps thirty seconds even. There's the sound of a raised voice as Katsumi offers her insight into the nature of perception and observation which is enough of a guide to let the Olympian youth find his way.
    The others make it into the dojo proper and it's only after they've had a chance to make their appearance that he'll also shimmy up the steps and hover in the archway that leads to the training floor. One hand rests upon the railing, the other holds the backpack strap on his shoulder.
    For a moment his lips part to lift his voice, but then he sees Johanna there pursued by the clearly /much/ shorter Katsumi so he holds his voice for the moment.

Colleen Wing has posed:
As those entering the dojo can see, Colleen is still instructing a young black belt, he's in his late teens. She is first demonstrating a roll of her sword underneath his, followed by a sweeping cut to the back of his neck. It's done slow enough so as not to actually injure, "You know this one, but here's a variation."

She has him cut again, and she does the same side defence, begins to push against his sword like she's going to go under, but draws her body back just a little to put the strong of her sword on the weak of his sword and thrusts, the tip resting against his neck.

"This relies on the concept that having failed your cut, you will want to cut again. You go from hard to soft and I take advantage of that soft. If you remain hard, you are no threat, I am defended and can move to disarms. We'll run through disarms again next week."

Colleen pauses and looks over to the doors. She smiles and gives a wave to Alexander, "Hello again." Then a small nod is given to Johanna and Katsumi. She bows to her student, "Alright that's enough for today. You're doing well. We can either continue with grading syllibus or kenjutsu on Saturday. Whichever way the class needs to be taken."

The young man bows and heads off to the toilets to get changed.

Colleen puts the bokken back on the wall and then approaches the newcomers, "Hello. I'm Colleen. Welcome to Chikara Dojo. First lesson is free, sorry Alexander you have already had yours."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro catches that grin. Her exotic eyes narrow! She can just tell this is going to be a battle of attrition. But if she can just wrangle this chick for a moment, she can set the record straight. She doesn't have to get physical and give her general manager a migraine. She can win this battle with nothing but logic!

DID SHE JUST HUSH HER!?

Katsumi's mouth goes agape again. What the Hell is going on here!? She's never the bullied! She's the bully! How did this situation get away from her this badly!? And she's about to escape again!

"No, I'm not a tourist, I'm Katsumi f***ing Oshiro, the Punk f***ing Princess!," she verbally flails. It should be noted here that swearing is not native in Japan; a little-known fact. So the subtle nuances of unfortunate double-entendres from exasperated swearing may not immediately register for the hapless diva.

A voice!

Katsumi pauses to look in Colleen's direction, briefly taken off-guard. "Ah? Oh crap, uh, sorry, I-.. uh.." She raises a hand to brush against the back of her neck. Somehow in all this, it didn't occur to her that she was barging in on a business.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    Johanna had nearly made it up to the final step. Her sneaker-covered foot has just crunched down on the landing proper, and with khaki-covered legs stretched like this she stops, dead in her tracks, at the sudden pronouncement from down below. -She- had made it all the way up and so she could see that, beyond the landing, there is private instruction going on. Which is an intimate thing. Intimate enough that the tomboy has the humility to properly blush, to feel her cheeks rise in shame for not having the foresight to schedule an appointment, rather than just help herself in--
    And beneath her (although, let's face it, Katsumi will always be an inch beneath her), Katsumi fucking Oshiro pronounces herself to the whole dang firmament that she's here, epithet and all.
    "Oh my God, there's--" Johanna has her hand to her lips, a single finger stretched against them in the universal signal to HUSH, audibly shhh'ing in tandem when her eyes catch just a step past the girl a familiar sight. The hand drops from her mouth. She breathes, "Alex!" and though she'd be loathe to realize it, there's a slight uptick in her voice. A happy note. "You found it!"
    All three of them get on the main floor. Coleen's introduction is given as she places the bokken on the wall. Johanna murmurs in full chagrin, "I'm so sorry to interrupt, if we are--" Wait, free lesson? "You have time to give a free lesson at the moment? I actually came for different reasons, but," her voice colors tickled. A very, 'don't-mind-if-I-do!' type greed drips from her hanged sentence.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Behind the two young women, Alexander's already stepping out of his shoes setting them to the side and then can't help but smile at Colleen's comment. He's not exactly garbed for training, however. More in those loose blue jeans and the slightly too large for him STARK EXPO '86 t-shirt he's wearing today.
    But it's when Colleen addresses him that he shifts the smile into a crinkle of his nose and a feigned look of disappointment that has him stepping into the room just a pace or two, still holding his ESU backpack over his shoulder.
    "No free lesson, how about free coffee?" The young man asks with a hopeful lilt upwards at the end of the sentence.
    Yet his footsteps bring him in behind and to the side of Katsumi and Johanna. He takes a moment to sort of grin crookedly at the Punk Princess and seems about to say something further, but perhaps wisely shifts his focus to the sensei in her dojo as well as his friend Johanna who apparently has business.
    Which brings him to the matter at hand. He stops in mid-stride then looks at Colleen, looks at Johanna, then back at Colleen. "This is Johanna Mitchell. She's looking for a job, I believe. I was going to, like, recommend her?"
    Though he does stop after a moment and smiles to Katsumi, "Hi, I'm Alex." Because clearly he needs a better introduction.

Colleen Wing has posed:
The shortest person in the room folds her arms as she looks at Katsumi with no small amount of disapproval at her loud outburst and swearing. Somehow the shortest person in the room feels the tallest for that moment. Her attention then shifts back to Alexander, "No free coffee either."

She is amused though and nods to Johanna, "Yes if you'd like. Both of you are welcome. What are your martial arts backgrounds? - here we practice Karate, Kempo, Jujutsu, and Kenjutsu from beginner up to advanced." She offers her hand, since this is America after all, "I'm Colleen. Welcome to my dojo."

"Alexander if you're going to keep coming here you'll have to get a gi like everyone else," she says a touch playfully, a smile on her lips. "A job? Nice to meet you Johanna Mitchell. What kind of job are you looking for and what are your qualifications?"

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro looks as chastised as she feels. Her left arm hangs clamped at her side, while the right arm crosses her chest to hold the opposite bicep. Her chin tucks towards her collar, shoulders hunched inwards, and her unusually-colored gaze is affixed to her feet. She doesn't need to see the look from Colleen; she's pretty sure it's the same the GM gives her weekly. Her feet are already shuffling in a subtle, backwards retreat towards the steps.

Someone's addressing her. Her eyes lift to Alexander, not quite losing that sheepish quality. "Hey, um, hi." She spares her right hand to tug a side of silky black hair behind her ear. "K-.. Katsumi. Which you probably heard. Fricking Hell..," she verbally winces, the hand moving to pinch the bridge of her nose between forefinger and thumb. "I- ah- sorry again," she offers to Colleen as she continues her retreat.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
     There's something in the way that Katsumi dithers that is heart-warming. Johanna catches herself, in spite of her own intentions and purposes here, glancing toward the Punk Princess with a grin that is as every bit as crooked as an aligator's grin.
    When Johanna is introduced by her full name by Alexander, she folds forward. It's different than the theatrical bow she'd given Katsumi earlier in the streets. This time her arms stay straight at her sides, and her head whips forward and down. The pixie cut of her hair hangs fully in her face and she begins speaking as she pulls herself upright. "Mixed. Jiu jitsu, mainly." Steps forward are taken after, using her hand to shovel her short hair back and away for from dark eyes as she claps hands with the smallest of the room. The shake is firm and gregarious, and soon joined with Johanna's opposite hand so that Coleen's hand is completely encompassed with warm palm on either direction. "Thank you for your warm welcome."
    When she releases Coleen's hand, she takes a step back, allowing herself to be at ease within the room. It is, after all, not as blusteringly chilly as it is outdoors. "To be honest, I'm looking for any type of job at this point. I just came back from being abroad. I used to work at a dojo in the upper state as an instructor, but mind you, I worked with little ones. I think the consistent oldest of the kids I taught was around twelve? Either way." Her tongue touches to the inside of her bottom lip momentarily in thought. "Aside from kids, I worked with elderly. Conducted therapeutic recreation, helped plan fitness regimes. Did a lot," at this she perks up, her hands flaring out in front of her, "and I mean a -lot- of paperwork. Log keeping and all of that."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Crinkling his nose, Alexander replies to the very idea he'd get a gi. Even though he's worn many of them in the past. Which might be why he protests as he steps to the side to give them some room in case rampant violent lethal education should break out.
    "Gis are hot." He says, as if the concept of it offended him. Which it doesn't, but they are hot. All cotton and ugh.
    He takes a seat at the edge of the mats, dropping into seiza with an almost casual ease of motion, setting his backpack down beside him and resting his hands upon his thighs. A deep breath is taken, but then... perhaps in an effort to save face for Katsumi, or perhaps he's just friendly he gestures to the mats and pat-pat-pats the area beside him.
    "Take a seat, and shoes and all, this should be fun." He gestures with a nod to Johanna and Colleen, then grins at Katsumi.

Colleen Wing has posed:
Colleen nods her head to Johanna and says, "Well, if you can teach in my dojo the pay isn't great. I'd take a cut but I wouldn't mind some help with the little ones. They are the biggest classes usually. Adorable too." She smiles and shrugs her shoulders. She asks Katsumi, "What is it you'd like to learn?" and her eyes turn to Alexander, "And what would you like to learn?"

She looks at the group, "I was thinking of going through some basic distance control - Johanna I will need to see what you know, can do, and your teaching style as an evaluation of whether or not I'd like you teach here."

She steps back and says, "Shoes off and let's have some fun." She moves to the front of the class and lowers in to seiza the way Japanese people do, straight down on the spot. She bows to the three and then begins doing backwards rolls and standing up, then dropping back down, repeating, "Some basic warmups while you think about what you'd like to learn."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Flat-footed!

Katsumi freezes in her retreat, heel just at the edge of the steps. Someone is inviting her to sit. And Colleen thinks she came for training. How did she wind up wrangled in this? Oh, right. The other woman calling her short! ...The other woman who is, in no way, paying attention to her anymore it seems! Or at least, that's what her spared glance tells her.

Katsumi's lips pull into an uncomfortable moue.

"I didn't- I wasn't- I mean-.."

And yet, feeling so incredibly awkward, she's verbally and semantically lured over to the group where she turns and sits in a manner more prim than she's feeling. "I'm a professional wrestler. I use some martial arts in my fighting. But-.."

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    "They are," Johanna whispers, and she holds Colleen's eyes with her own. Indigo meets with brown. "I've missed it. It's easy to be a hero in a child's eyes. All you have to do is treat them like they're a little bad ass. That sort of effortless love and adoration, I didn't quite realize what it did for my ego and confidence until it went away." Longing etches in her words. Her eyes half-hood and she goes somewhere internal as Katsumi and Alexander are asked what they would like to learn.
    She allows her ankle to twist to the side as she steps on the heel with her other foot. A socked foot slips free from the crumpled footwear, and soon that sock is hooked and pulled down to expose a bare foot. It's repeated with the other shoe too. She takes her pair to a slatted cubby meant for storing such things, and when she walks back toward the mats, she goes down in seiza abreast of Katsumi and Alexander, trapping the Punk Princess right in between the three of them! "Professional wrestler," Johanna muses, and she might be about to say something about height? She just might. For she looks like a cat that has caught a canary in its mouth, and is struggling to keep canary (if by canary, we mean words) stuffed right where it belongs.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    As to what Alexander would like to learn he answers with a casual rejoinder. "Mainly if you're going to hire her." But then he exhales a breath a touch of exasperation lighting those curious hazel eyes of his as he looks sidelong toward Johanna and Katsumi. One does not counter the orders of a sensei in their own dojo.
    So at her behest he eases a little further onto the mats, the fabric and material crinkling a bit with a krch-krch-krch as he crab walks forward a to get himself an angle which he can do those exercises without interfering.
    And then, with an ease of one hopping back onto a bicycle, he starts to move through those backwards rolls with a practiced precision that likely has been drilled into him many times. Rolling back along the curve of his spine and making sure his head eases one way or the other, so it's out of the path of travel, in essence rolling onto his shoulder, bringing his knees into his chest, and then over. Three times. Four times.
    He straightens up seeing if the other two might need help. But being a wrestler and a jiu-jitsu practitioner, they probably have no problems at all.

Colleen Wing has posed:
"Professional wrestler. Well that's exciting. Most of what I'd have to teach here in this dojo is completely illegal in a wrestling ring," she says with a chuckle and then swaps to forward rolls, "If you're not familiar or comfortable with forward rolls, let me know and I'll go through it step by step with you."

She rolls forward along one side, back up to her feet, then does a backwards roll and up to her feet where she began, then repeats on the other side. It's a good way to start warming up. "The kids always love rolling. There's this one boy, Joshua, he does ninja hands after every roll." She says and holds up her hands like they were blades as she pops backup. "Adorable."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
The way Johana says it is all she needs. Katsumi's gaze /cuts/ to her in such a dangerous way that almost begs her to drop a sass-bomb. If she had a superpowers right now, it would be Chargin' Mah Laser. And the natural follow-up would be blasting at the woman beside her with all the fury of a dozen Lo Pans.

Thankfully, Colleen distracts from the moment. Or perhaps she worsens it? Katsumi is doing her very best to behave herself right now; not only out of self-conscious guilt for disrupting class, but for the sake of her home federation depending on her to not create a PR nightmare. Her jaw tightens. "Tch. You might be surprised," she manages, her voice carefully tilted towards an airy sort of confidence. "Japan isn't all lamed out like the west. We do strong style wrestling."

In fairness, it isn't bluster. There is a legitimate amount of martial training that went into Katsumi's practice. Though it sampled and picked from a variety of sources, including MMA. One of her signature moves happens to be such a kick, after all.

Wait, toes are coming out. Katsumi wiggles her toes reactively, and realizes she may have been in America too long already; she can feel the firm confines of her sneakers still in place. She audibly gasps and pops up from her position to hurry across the floor, away from the others, to begin removing her shoes. She's careful to turn away so she isn't pointing her rear at the gathering, at least, letting her hair fall as a curtain about her face.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    Johanna doesn't help. If anything, her expression is meant to egg on Katsumi. It's not unlike a child at a zoo tapping the glass to see what further reactions can be provoked from the sleeping animals within. Or someone purposely holding their cat close to their body to wait and feel for the first struggles of defiance. It's a form of sadism, pure and simple.
    Johanna rises a knee from the mat, and anchors her foot down firmly in the crinkly material. Scooping her opposite arm into the knee still plugged into the mat, she rolls easily off the line of her neck, then against the full of her back, before rolling back into the same stance. From there, she does the backward roll. Her shoulder slumps toward the knee that is pressed up, her arm hooked around its outside. The foot that is behind her runs flush with the mat, and she propels herself backward. In the same way she'd rolled forward off her shoulder, so too does she roll backward against the same shoulder until her legs have done a full swing over and back.
    The same position is taken afterward. One foot pressed into the mat with her knee raised toward her chest. The other is back behind, knee and shin to the mat.
    From there, she repeats, losing something of the large grin off of her face as she does so. As she buckles in. For warming up is more than just warming up of the body. It's a ritual of sorts. One that calls the practictioner to the proper state of mind.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The blond youth's voice lifts as he incorporates the forward rolls into the warm up exercise, leaning forward and moving with the same well-practiced ease and then recovering back to his feet. He asks sidelong as he continues to go through the movements cleanly. "You're not going to charge me for this, are you?"
    Though, to be fair, there is something... centering about being back in a dojo. About accepting instruction from a sensei. It reminds him of better times. And worse times. But mostly better. Yet still he continues to roll and rise, then roll the other way. And after a bit of time he might well seem to be a bit flushed from the effort and enjoying himself.
    Until eventually he pops back up to his feet, rolls his shoulders a few times and then shakes his head. "I've never seen Japanese Professional Wrestling." He offers as he grabs one shoulder and pushes it through the range of motion, grimacing a little at a short crackle that comes from the limb. "Only some of the upstate local things I believe. And once at Madison Square Garden."

Colleen Wing has posed:
Colleen raises an eyebrow at the odd retort from Katsumi. She replies in Japanese, her accent from the middle of the country, "I am Japanese. Born and raised." Her eyes track her as she quickly takes off her shoes.. the swearing, the shoes, Colleen is giving her a _look_. It kind of says: Are you sure you're Japanese? in a somewhat humorous way

But then her attention moves to Johanna and she asks, "Do you know her, or are you randomly encouraging ire? In my dojo we treat everybody with respect. If someone challenges you with disrespect, you should let it slide right off. Save frustration for the challenges of life, not for amusement of others," she ends addressing Katsumi again. She was not joking about that question to Johanna though.

"We're just doing a little bit of exercise Alexander, no lesson yet. Japanese professional wrestling is entertaining, you should check it out some time." She asks Katsumi, "Do you do it here in New York? May be I can organise some of my teenagers to come along and see a match."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro pauses working on her shoes when Colleen makes her statement, and she straightens her posture again more slowly. In Japanese, she replies, "<And some Americans don't know who Randy Savage is.>" Her point; being of the nationality doesn't automatically make one familiar. She wasn't making a judgment call based on that. But boy did she not care for that look she was given just now.

In fairness, those who don't speak Japanese may still pick out the completely random 'Randy Savage' namedrop in the middle of that.

In English, Katsumi sniffs, "People pay good money to see me vent frustrations on people." She kneels at this point, her fingers moving to shoelaces, but pausing. What is she even doing here? This is incredibly uncomfortable. There's a glance to Alexander, then back to Colleen. "I'm here as a part of an international event coming up. Like a tournament. In Madison Square Garden," she nods towards Alexander. "My federation was picked to represent Japan. And I was picked out of the federation. Russia's repped, and the U.K., and America. I mean, obviously. I dunno if tickets are still available."

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
     Called out!

    Johanna feels a hot flush creep against the back of her neck as she comes to a still from her rolls. One that freezes her in place. She does eventually respond, "Like water off a duck's back?" with a the vague twitchings of a smile against her lips.
    Knowing little to nothing about wrestling in general, much less Japan's scene, the one thing that Johanna picks up on is the name drop. Randy Savage. Slim-Jim man! Perhaps the obscurity of hearing Macho Man being referenced melts her movement and she is fluid once more. Moving into stretches as Katsumi tends to her shoelaces. "Are you allowed some reign of freedom in your appearances? Or is it all controlled by a representative while you're here?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "I had a cousin that was into..." Alexander frowns and looks down, eyes slipping to the side as he tries to recall, then looks over at Katsumi as if trying to find the right words. "He was into shootfighting? Supposedly he was champion of Tohoku Prefecture." His head tilts to the side, "Don't know if that would mean anything to you."
    Though Colleen and Johanna might well realize the significance of a cousin of his participating in a sports competition.
    For the moment he steps a bit to the side to give the others a bit more room as he then continues to warm up, standing there on the edge of the mats and reaching behind him as he lifts his foot up to grab the ankle and /pullll/ for a time, stretching his thigh and then swapping legs.
    "But that sounds cool," He says to Katsumi, a slightly wan smile settles on his features, some hint of sadness there, but he doesn't voice its cause.

Colleen Wing has posed:
"Break falls," she announces and begins to do break falls backwards instead of the backwards rolls. She smiles and says, "That's very exciting. Madison Square Garden. I will look it up and see which of my students I can bring along. I like introducing them to Japanese culture. They only have New York and TV."

"Johanna you came about a job, Alexander you came as a friend? ..and Oshiro-san you came.. ?," she asks the three of them since they are here and they are warming up a bit. After a few break falls she sits and starts rolling her joins and stretching out her legs on the mats.

"On Fridays we do self defence classes if that's of at all interest to you. It's a mixture of all the styles, and sometimes includes weapons. New York is a strange place, there are literally people pretending to be ninjas here and committing crimes. I don't think America got the memo that ninja translates to spy."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
"Ugh, I know, so much weeb sh**," sighs Katsumi, vexed.

Okay, maybe there is some common ground to be had here. And when she calls for breakfalls, a small grin edges the corner of her lips. She's very familiar with those. They're mandatory training. Forward, backwards, momentum-based, hapkido rolling, all that jazz. And if it's not a part of the standard training, Katsumi would urge that it should be. There's only so much you can do to protect yourself when someone's slamming you down.

"Oh, uh." Katsumi's snapped out of the brief moment of comfort and right back into awkward self-consciousness. Her hand moves to the back of her neck, gaze shifting sidelong. "I came because she, uh... called me short..." It sounds so ridiculously petty when she says it out loud.

"A-anyway, sure, they'd probably love it! Get to see Japan beat wholesale ass all over the other countries! Hah..!" It's some token effort to regain her stride, complete with happily-shut eyes. If a bit forced.

Suddenly, she redirects to Alexander, "Shoot fighting's something /every/ wrestler has to learn." It's not something she elaborates on, but the dead look that follows emphasizes the importance.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    Johanna nods at the switch of instruction. Like water being sprung upward from an upended glass, Johanna's springs up onto her feet at the front of the mat.
    This time, she does not look at Katsumi as she states the reason why she followed. Sometimes the best way to avoid temptation is to not engage to begin with. Her eyes stay straight ahead on Colleen, following her lead as it were. It's business time.
    Her knees bend comfortably with a flexible stance. Her breakfall is simple. Her leg and arm both sweep across her body and she /SLAMS/ herself down, chin tucked at impact and with her other knee bent, pointed straight up. Her arm and leg remain extended outward.
    She's on her feet soon after. The action is repeated. She falls into her own tempo. Her own pattern. Her own beat as it were.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    One thing that Alexander has had going for him in the past, beyond all the quirks and twists of fate that made him who and what he is, is that he has e'er been a good student. So when Colleen makes that shift to breakfalls he finds himself answering with the short sharp nod and clap of hands to his sides as he executes the bow as he murmurs quietly, "Yes, ma'am."
    And then into breakfalls, his movements precise and we'll trained as he follows along with her as best he can, no longer chit-chatting for the moment save for when she asks and he answers. "I came to vouch for Johanna if my word carries any weight with you."
    That said he uncoils on the mats and spreads his legs, stretching out to one side, hands reaching for the bottom of his foot and bouncing his chest over his thigh a few times, then swapping to the other foot and repeating the process.

Colleen Wing has posed:
Colleen nods her head and smirks a touch, "Uh huh. Do you usually let your anger dictate your actions?" It's a playful question. Learning to control your own emotions is something most martial artists strive for. Not that it's particularly easy. She herself loses her shit completely when faced with Bakuto of The Hand. But that's a very person deep knife that twists in to her side.

She claps her hands, "Basic evasion and control of distance and angle." She motions for Johanna to come join her since she says she knows Jui-Jutsu already. "Opponent throws a punch to the face, meet with your hand on their elbow as you step slightly forward and to the side."

She motions for Johanna to throw the punch and if done so, she moves smoothly to the side, her hand against Johanna's elbow.

"Note, counter strike is very hard for the opponent to block. Punch to the kidneys."

She open handedly gently taps Johanna's side. "We'll start on the left step to begin with and move to the right later. Take turns with each other. Two punches, swap. Don't go too fast, get a feel for each other before you speed up."

She motions to the ground and the feet, "See my foot alignment is toward her. Note the distance - not too close, not so far away I cannot counter strike. Hajime."

Katsumi Oshiro has posed:
Katsumi Oshiro's gaze half-lids in amusement. "Usually," she answers honestly. She has a reputation. It's very intact. As if she could hide the fact that she's hotheaded. "But I wasn't /angry/, I was..." Lured? Toyed along? It's hard to explain. When someone dangles bait, it's extremely difficult for the Punk Princess to turn it down. "..I dunno. Um.."

It doesn't seem to matter. The group seems to have moved on the kidney punches. Holy crap, okay, no, the referees wouldn't even know what to do with something like that. Yikes. Admittedly, it might be weird for her to recoil against something like that while simultaneously being fine with spiking the tops of people's skulls to a ground. But one she trusts herself with. The other, not so much.

Katsumi takes this opportunity to quietly excuse herself. She didn't come here to train. She came here to argue with Johanna. They'll have to wait to butt heads. Oshiro may be a punk, but she has just enough wherewithal to not want to make a nuisance of herself. So back down the stairs she creeps.

Johanna Mitchell has posed:
    "It's the same reason why I was goading you along, Miss Punk Princess," Johanna mentions casually as she gets to a stand on her feet. As she strolls toward Colleen, she pivots her feet so that she's walking backward a few steps. And the reason for it is simple. She'd intended to give Katsumi a devilish little wink. It was never entirely truthful what Colleen initially gauged between the two--because it is certainly more than random. This is pointed. This is a small war in the brewing.
    Facing Colleen, the strike that is asked for is given. A punch is thrown with precision to meet squarely with the point of Collen's nose, only to have her arm diverted with Colleen's hand pressed against her elbow. When Colleen's hand taps against the brunette's side, it is against tensed muscle beneath the flesh, and Johanna drops her arms to step back, ready to start again.
    But wait a sec! Katsumi is making a run on her get-away sticks!
    Johanna's face falters. Confusion! "Hey wait! Where are you going?" Glancing toward Alexander, she questions, "What'd you do to her?" with a bare smirk that drifts and fades as pivots once again to face Colleen.
    "That won't count toward her first free lesson, will it?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The answer that comes from Alexander is one without words, for right now they need to focus on the lesson at hand. So he simply glances after Katsumi, then flares his hands slightly as if the answers escaped him, and no more are forthcoming. Instead he turns back to Colleen and gives a nod as he squares up and makes ready to prepare the technique, the block, the turning strike. Then swaps to Johanna when it's her turn as they trade turns being the attacker and the defender.
    Assuredly it's a bit basic for both of them, but then he smiles a little crookedly at Johanna as he murmurs simply, "Back in the dojo."
    As if that was their lot in life.

Colleen Wing has posed:
Colleen smiles and then shakes her head as one of them ducks away. It happens. "Okay Johanna I'd like you to come along to the advanced class on Saturday night so that I can see you training with the adults at a higher level and we'll run you through a mock grading. You need to be a black belt in my dojo to teach. I'd like it if you didn't pick fights with strangers though, this is an inclusive space for any martial artists seeking to understand the Japanese arts."

She gives a bow to both of them and says, "Thank you both. I need to get some other things done but I'm hoping to see you both around here again. Next time both of you bring a gi," she smiles and asks, "Also Johanna, let me know if you'd like to learn more about weapons, and the other arts I teach here."