Whatever Happened to the Purity of Unarmed Combat? [Open to all]

[herhonorness]

At the Saganami Naval Academy on Gryphon, a younger Honor had utilized numerous in-depth, realistic tactical simulators in her training to be a starship commander, all of which frequently used intricate holographic projections to put one 'in the thick' of combat.

When compared to the Sensoriums of Transmigration 9, however, Saganami Academy was about as cutting edge as a puppet theater.

For a time Honor experimented with it, materializing random objects, calling to mind old locals and places, memories and scenarios: the windswept plains of Gryphon, the cliffs and jungles of Sphinx, the domes of Grayson.

In a fit of nostalgia, she briefly called up the bridge of HMS Troubador that she had so recently from her perspective been snatched, standing in that cramped space of holo-displays and controls as midshipmen and tac officers rushed about.

(http://th02.deviantart.net/fs44/PRE/f/2009/070/4/5/Goddess_of_Battle_by_wraith11.jpg)

Then she dismissed it, shaking her head.

"Time to get down to brass tacks." She says to Nimitz, summoning up a perch for him.

The treecat sits there contentedly, blissfully munching on some celery pinched from the gardens.

And Honor buckles down and throws herself into some hardcore combat training. Anyone can wander in and interrupt/train with her/learn from her/teach her.

Insert Power Rock Ballads at your leisure.

Comments

Exercise/Unarmed Combat

[herhonorness]

Currently the Sensorium is set to a large Gym, filled with weight lifting equipment in the corners, exercise balls, bars, dumbbells, and the like. It also contains punching bags, kick bags, and practice dummies for combat practice.

The centerpiece of the room, however, is simply a very large mat that would be in place at any dojo.

As Nimitz looks cheerily on, Honor, dressed in a black 'Gi', goes through the basic forms of Coup de Vitessse, the chief martial arts style of the Manticorian Navy. Martial Arts literate people may recognize it as a very brutal power style, designed to hurt people outside of practice and friendly bouts.

Does anyone wish to interrupt her/CHALLENGE™ her?

...he has a guitar. He can totally insert some power rock ballads...

[morganknight]

Morgan hadn't entered the sensorium with the intention of interrupting, or challenging her, or even commenting. He hadn't intended to enter an occupied sensorium at all. But, as was painfully common for him, he had completely failed to notice this one was in use as he stepped in... or for about a minute afterward.

So with his hands jammed in the pockets of his odd black coat, sword hilt visible over his shoulder, the Akashic seemed deep in thought and totally unaware of his environment.

Righteous!

[herhonorness]

"Saaaa!"

Honor finishes a strike that would have crushed an opponents throat in real life...assuming the average semi-skilled opponent that martial arts theory always assumes.

Then she straightens up, sweat on her face, and summons a towel from midair.

She turns around and nods politely to the black-coated newcomer.

Swords, she thinks. Is it a coincidence that so many of the people on this ship are skilled with swords?

"Hello." She says politely, wiping away the sweat from her face.

Nimitz 'bleaks' in reply.

No response.

Honor acts on a hunch and tosses the towel right at the enigmatic black-coated man's face.

[morganknight]

He caught the towel out of midair without even seeming to notice it, but his distracted forward progression stops. A discerning eye can actually track in his eyes the slow realization of where he was, and more importantly, what his surroundings were. After some time of this, he looked down at the towel in his hand with a sheepish, rueful smile.

"Sorry," he said, looking up at her with that same smile, and a note of bemused resignation in his voice. "I didn't mean to just wander in on you. Although considering the environment you've conjured, I probably WOULD have meant to if I'd known ahead of time..."

[herhonorness]

Honor's eyes twinkle with a bit of smug satisfaction as she gets proof of her suspicions.

"A fellow practitioner then, judging by your interest and reflexes."

She extends a hand.

"Honor Harrington, freshly decanted."

She looks around at the conjured exercise room. Speaking of which, there is what looks like a six-legged hybrid of a tomcat and lemur perched on a cat stand nearby, cheerfully munching on a piece of celery. It mewls a greeting.

"I was practicing alone...is there already an existing group that meets up to practice martial styles together? I could go for a sparring partner..."

[morganknight]

He perked up slightly as he reached out to give the sort of handshake that politicians and CEOs practiced to develop. "Morgan Knight. I was talking to you on the omincomms. Offered you an apple," he added with a wink. (No, he wasn't above turning on the charm just a little.)

Morgan didn't blink as he noticed Nimitz; this was the sensorium, after all. Instead, he offered a hand to sniff, in the manner of one who was around cats quite a bit. "There is, though it's been kind of on hiatus for a year and a day, not literally, thanks to everything we just got through with. I've got to talk to Red Robin about starting that back up... But in absence of that, I don't think finding someone to help you work out the stiffness would be too hard."

He added a quirk of the brows and a grin to the last statement, just in case she didn't realize he meant himself from the words alone.

[herhonorness]

Nimitz glares at you with an arched eyebrow and a few flicks of his ears. It's a glare of withering scorn reserved only for silly-headed two-legs that patronize others...and worse, do so unintentionally.

Honor blinks. "Oh! So you're the the Apple Fellow! Small world, it seems...or rather, small ship! Thank you very much for that offer, by the way!"

She'd already had to grit her teeth and shovel down ship slop once already. At least the trays tasted okay.

In response to his half-way flirtatious offer to help with practice, she raises an eyebrow, face completely serious.

"A sparring partner would be quite nice to have. I appreciate the offer..."

A slight quirk at the mouth. "But are you any good?" She teases.

[morganknight]

"You look like a conventional Earth cat more than anything else I know," he said to Nimitz, withdrawing his hand. "Force of habit, I apologize!"

Apple fellow? Oh dear. "Well, sort of. I just help Applejack, who grows the apple trees up in Hydroponics, so I get a couple of special privileges when it comes to her crops. Trying to soften the blow of waking up here seems like a good use for that." Though Honor seemed to be adapting quite well, which was excellent, in his mind.

Casually, he shrugged off his coat, which slid off his shoulders with a bizarre sense of weight to it, then tossed it casually over a low bar. If physique said anything, he was pretty skilled, but that was a dime a dozen on this ship.

"I'm all right. Never managed to beat my teacher, but I hold 'top of the class' status by a fairly safe margin."

Armed Combat!

[herhonorness]

Currently the Sensorium is set to what appears to be more explicitly a martial arts dojo, but with subtle architectural differences (mainly hermetic seals on the main doors). Practice swords that look like strange hybrids of katanas, tachis, and western cruciforms rest against a wall along with stiff practice tunics and head guards.

Nimitz keeps munching on a set of parallel bars as Honor runs through several warm-up exercises in the Grayson 'Salle' style. It's as formalized as classic Kendo, but effective enough for a style that was based upon 'The Seven Samurai'.

Interruptions/critiques? Or CHALLENGES™?

[swordofdorn]

A huge figure steps into the dojo. It looks like a knight of old, if knights wore whirring black power-plate that had glowing red eyes, and carried swords that are probably as heavy as Honor herself. He says nothing, simply watching her movements.

[iaijutsu]

The blend between the familiar and the unfamiliar is interesting, to say the least, and when he enters Saitō is torn between watching Honor's style and getting a closer look at those swords.

The former wins out, though - the swords will still be there when she's finished, after all.

Why hello, my personal Armsman!

[herhonorness]

The style of the blade fits the mold of a Katana, but the blade is as long as a Tachi, and the spine is sharpened from the tip and a third of the length down: the hilt and guard fit the mold of a European two-hander, and the grip is worn from long practiced use. You'd think it was a family heirloom, though it actually was more something that was...won.

The majority of the forms she is performing are...singular. Sword in one of many types of stances, she waits, ready to strike, breathing regularly, facing some unseen opponent, judging their strength of will, the moment of tension that marks their commitment to the attack...

And then she slashes in one decisive stoke, then sheathes the blade and repeats the process.

She's not as good as you, and the style of stroke is exaggerated and dramatic. But her greatest observable strength is that when she makes a killing blow, she holds nothing back.

Honor finally notices Saito's presence and draws her steadholder sword back into her sheath.

"Captain Saito!" Honor says cheerfully, waving to her podpop buddy as she made her way across the dojo.

"I see you've made some new friends here!" She adds, nodding to the hulking giant of a armored man.

The Treecat makes a cute noise, greeting the xenophobe and Samurai.

[iaijutsu]

Her technique is...interesting - she had mentioned before that it was meant for tourneys, and he can definitely see that in the movements. Wasted motion, wasted energy; it's rather at odds with the iai he practices, where one strives for ultimate precision and to get the most out of every movement.

But she commits to her attacks in a way that reminds him quite a bit of Souji. He likes seeing that.

After nodding to Honor and Nimitz, Saitō glances at the other man for a moment. "We're not yet acquainted."

[herhonorness]

"I see." Honor says quietly appraising the armored marine. It reminds her of the marines back home, save for the...baroqueness.

Her hand raises up into a salute to the large fellow. "Commodore Harrington, Royal Manticorian Navy, pleased to make you acquaintance."

To Saito, she nods with a small grin.

"It's good to see you again, Shinsengumi. So then, shall we be about it?"

[Does Saito have his sword on hand (probably stupid question), and are his clothes still bloodstained?]

[iaijutsu]

[The swords never leave him! But he has indeed cleaned up by now.]


Saitō simply nods again - he's not one to be verbose without cause - but doesn't reach for the katana at his waist.

"Do you have a preference whether I use a wooden or bamboo sword?" Bamboo practice swords may have caught on pretty well in his time, but some dojos still didn't use them at all, preferring the heavier (and more damaging) wooden ones.

[herhonorness]

[Cool. Perhaps later Honor can teach him how to use pistols with...with HONOR (pun)]

There are no bamboo swords in the Grayson Dojo, for several reasons.

One, bamboo was a rarity on Grayson, due to it being a world horrendously rich in toxic metals in which absorbent plants were a liability.

Two, the Grayson swordmasters of the Fencing 'Salle' felt that bruises taught the novice best.

"I see you cleaned your garments finally: it must have been quite the battle." Honor remarks, picking up a practice sword of her own and offering a guard helmet to Saito.

"Do you want to start with a practice spar, or discuss our respective styles?"

[iaijutsu]

That suits Saitō well enough; the best spars he ever had were with the other Shieikan regulars, and they never touched bamboo.

...which had resulted in he and Souji damned near killing each other, the first time they fought, but fights like that were precisely what had drawn them all to gather at Shieikan in the first place. The camaraderie, the respect for pure skill and strength not bogged down by inflexible thinking and over-formalized rules. Edo had no shortage of people acting at being warriors, but few who truly lived it as men had in the old days.

"The uniform has always been troublesome that way." He accepts the guard helmet with a slightly curious look, as he's never actually used one.

"Actions speak louder than words."

[monster_san]

Fuu sometimes visited the Sensoriums to train, usually when she wanted to practice traditional archery--there was nothing like the convenience of a limitless quiver. But when she walked in today, it seemed as though someone else had quite a different type of training in mind.

In fact, it looked like a kendo dojo, something that made her think immediately of Hikaru--I wonder if her family's home looks anything like this, Fuu wondered as she turned her attention to the woman going through some exercises. She watched and waited until it didn't seem like she would be interrupting to speak up, with a friendly smile. "You're quite good!"

[herhonorness]

Honor sheathes her sword after a practice strike, and summons up a towel. Then she turns towards Fu and smiles.

She seems awfully young, she think to herself. What the heck is she doing is a grim place like this?

"There have been better, but thank you very much!"

The treecat keeps munching at his celery, burping a polite greeting.

[monster_san]

"Still, it's easy to see that you're skilled in your own right," said Fuu. "I have a friend from home who's very good at kendo, and I'm sure she would agree."

She gave the cat-like creature a little wave. Was it a cat? Cats didn't usually eat plants that weren't catnip, at least not without throwing up afterwards. "My name is Fuu Hououji. I haven't seen you before; were you released from the pods recently?"

[herhonorness]

Nimitz waves back. With two of his six limbs. So no, not a cat.

Honor extends a hand. "I learn from the best. Commodore Honor Stephanie Harrington, Royal Manticorian Navy. Recently decanted, as you've inferred."

[monster_san]

Six. Well, that's quite impressive.

Fuu shook Harrington's hand. "It's nice to meet you, Commodore! I'm afraid I don't know where Manticore is, but it sounds like Stacy made a sensible choice in choosing you for the crew." What with so many of the officers and department heads having been repodded by the Daligig...

Harrington, she'd seen that name--oh, yes! "I think I saw your post on the network as well! So you know about what's happened recently?"

[herhonorness]

Honor frowns.

"There was a revolution to overthrow the creators of this ship, right?"

She'd heard the factual details, but didn't know how to emotionally process it yet."

[monster_san]

Fuu nodded. "The Daligig--they were the ones who commanded the ship and set our missions. According to them, they're fighting to stop the Ohm from destroying the multiverse, and they were the ones to save us from the destruction of our different worlds."

She shook her head, clasping her hands in front of her. "However, they treated us as slaves. They programmed Stacy with draconian protocols. Not only did they use truly brutal torture as a disciplinary measure, they called everyone else to watch it, to demonstrate their mastery."

That incident, Fuu thought, was what had pushed many people over the edge to fully support the mutiny.

Really Armed Combat!

[herhonorness]

This time it's a firing range, plain and simple.

One part of the room sealed off and insulated, and Nimitz is enjoying his celery there, away from ear-shattering noises.

Honor,wearing headphones, stands in a booth and tries out some guns, shooting at a series of cutout targets, all of them still for the moment.

She's currently shooting a classic chemical projectile pistol not far removed from the classic Colt models.

Resting in a rack nearby are some Manticorian Pulser weapons, as well as some basic GIA field model plasma rifles.

Interruptions can occur at any time. CHALLENGES™, perhaps not so much.