lucetilogs | And when you forget that he's there

And when you forget that he's there

Who:

gaijin_ninja
What: meeting up for training
Where: the barracks, backdated to 6am on the 18th
Summary: Turtle-sensei gives an ironic lesson on hasty decisions.
Rating: PG-13 for language

Six am. What masochistic fool even got up for training that early? Hell, who got up that early period if they didn't have to?

Him, apparently.

Isamu yawned, strolling toward the barracks half-awake. He was lucky he'd even managed a small breakfast, so coffee had been out of the question. Hopefully a good exercise would wake him up a bit more. He wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be wearing to this thing, and he still didn't have much in his inventory to choose from, so he arrived in jeans and a t-shirt which was possibly not the best idea. At least they weren't his ripped jeans.

"S'up, Sensei?" he greeted the turtle blearily as he came into view.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Raph watched with a stern face as Isamu completed the exercises. If he was really going to go by his master's example, he would've kicked him out of the dojo completely for the disrespect. But he just started, and things were going to be rocky for a while, so it was his duty to make it perfectly clear what was and wasn't acceptable in his dojo.

Ha, his dojo. It was still such an odd concept.

When the crunches are over and the counting is done, Raph paused for a moment, letting Isamu catch his breath and mull over the purpose of this lesson.

Strength. Discipline. Respect. Tradition

Master Splinter would be proud; or so he hoped.

"So are you ready to learn something, or are we gonna keep playing games?"

Edited 2010-04-22 03:20 (UTC)

Isamu had flopped flat on his back when he was done. By the end of things, it had been harder and harder to keep counting the numbers out loud due to shortness of breath. He stared at the ceiling.

"Y-yeah. Sure," he agreed from his still prone position. Then he raised a hand and gestured vaguely to clarify. "The something, I mean. I'm ready for that." Then he forced himself back up into a seated position. He was definitely going to be feeling this tomorrow. And for the next week.

"All right then." Raph took a seat on the floor opposite Isamu again. "Stretch it out. You won't regret it so much in the morning."

As he ran through some basic stretching exercises, he kept a close eye on Isamu, wondering if he's pushing the guy too hard. But as he stretched out his shoulder with a satisfying pop, he'd already decided against it. If Isamu really wanted to learn, Raph wasn't about to baby him.

"Next time, I'm not gonna go through warm-ups with you. We'll get straight down to business." He moved to the other shoulder and popped that one too. "But when you do 'em on your own, just remember the order. Cardio, strength, stretch it out. An' just 'cause I ain't watchin' you don't mean you can botch it. Got it?"

"So... you're saying you want me to do them myself before I get here?" As in get up even earlier? That ranked pretty high on Isamu's scale of Lame, but he wasn't going to risk arguing the issue at this point.

He followed Raphael's example as best he could, though with less shoulder popping, since that sounded ridiculously painful. Cardio, strength, stretching. With the counting. That wasn't so hard to remember. Actually doing it on the other hand...

Stretching was nice and simple, and even though part of him wanted to make a run for it before the actual lesson got underway, he was thinking a little more positively about things once he was done.

Raph stood, making a motion for Isamu to do the same. "No, you'll be here at six. Clean the dojo, do your warm-ups, get down to business by seven. Sound fair?"

"Yeah, I can do that." Isamu agreed quickly, if only because he'd hate to have Raphael change his mind on him if he put up an argument. Six was doable.

He stood when asked, though the movement was a little painful.

"Good." He nods his approval, then changes his stance - back straight, feet shoulder-width apart, fists held loosely at waist height.

"Okay, lesson one. Natural stance. You gotta be always ready to move and defend yourself. That means you never got idle hands. So I don't want to see ya standin' like that." He motions to Isamu's posture. "Like you don't got a clue what's goin' on. Be aware of your surroundings, 'cause ninja...they don't play nice.

You will be gettin' attacked from behind, you will be gettin' hit when you least expect it."

But he didn't have a clue what was going on. That probably didn't help matters any. Isamu watched Raphael, trying to copy the posture as he was shown.

So what, did getting training as a ninja automatically mean he was going to be targeted by people or something? Or did Turtle-sensei think he was going to go out looking for trouble?

...No idle hands. All right. And being aware probably didn't mean glancing around like an idiot, so he didn't.

No, it just meant that later in his training, Raph fully plans to attack him at random throughout the lessons. That's life, and that's how his father taught him. Deal with it.

"Next is the guard." Raph put up his fists to demonstrate. "Mine's a little higher than yours should be 'cause I ain't so soft right here." He rapped a knuckle against his plastron to demonstrate.

"Point of it's protectin' your face and your vital organs. In the beginnin' you're gonna do all your strikes and blocks from here." He lowered one arm to cross over his stomach, keeping the other fist raised in front of his face, and waited for Isamu to mirror him.

Edited 2010-04-23 18:37 (UTC)

Right. Isamu didn't have any built-in armored plating. He did his best to adopt a similar stance.

Raph stalked forward, moving to adjust Isamu's arms to a better position. "Keep it away from you a little. The point of it is to keep 'em from gettin' in too close."

Then he moved to his position facing him again. "Okay, punches."

For the next hour, Raphael guided Isamu through basic punches, stances, and blocks that have been in ingrained into him since childhood, trying his best to keep his patience at every bump and hiccup they encounter along the way. And by the end, he impressed himself. Despite the rocky start, things went as well as it should be expected.

"I wish we had a sparrin' partner for you. It ain't like you can spar with me."

Isamu frowned. He didn't need a sparring partner. These were private lessons, not open classes for the public.

There was always Naoki, and the demi-fiend would probably be able to pull punches, but he didn't know if he wanted his friend to know how well or poorly he was progressing. Nor did he want to be reminded on a regular basis just how much stronger the other teen was.

"We'll figure something out, I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'll think of somethin'."

He thought back to the bo Don had made him. Maybe he could start some basic weapons training instead. He'd just have to either find or make Isamu a bo.

"Well, I guess you can be done for the day. How's about we meet again Friday?"

"Friday sounds good." Isamu smiled. He was sore, but he was still standing. It could have been worse, he supposed. The important part was that he'd made it through and Raphael was still willing to train him.

He was tempted to ask if he could just drop to the floor and take a nap, though. If it had been cleaner, he might have. He'd just crash once he got him.

"So, do I have to call you 'Master Raph' now?"

"That...sounds really weird." He pondered it for a moment, turning the title in his mind until he decided it left a bad taste in his mouth. It reminded him too much of his father, and he definitely was not trying to take his master's place.

"Sensei's fine in the dojo, I guess. But it ain't like you gotta call me that everywhere. I bet we're probably the same age. That'd be kinda weird if ya think of it."

He knew humans had a hard time judging his age, so he wouldn't be surprised if Isamu thought he was older than he was. He certainly felt older than he was most of the time.

Edited 2010-04-24 00:43 (UTC)

"What, really?" Isamu had kinda been wondering about the turtle's age. Did mutant turtles age any differently than humans did?

"I'm seventeen. So how old are you?"

"I'm uh. I think I'm eighteen. Probably nineteen in the summer."

The reaction piqued his curiosity, though. He doesn't get much of a chance to ask humans what they think of him and his brothers. "How old didja think I was?"

He thought? As in he didn't know? Well, there were probably complications somewhere along the line, maybe involving how he'd become a mutant in the first place. If he'd been less tired he might have asked more questions, but they could wait for another time.

"Ah, I don't know. Twenties? It's the voice, really. And the build."

He grinned at that, taking it as a compliment. His voice has been this deep since he was at least fourteen, and he really is very proud of his build. He works his ass off to get this big, and it shows.

"Yeah, no. Eighteen." Then he remembered what he was doing. "Anyways -" He nodded a bow to Isamu. "Good session."

Edited 2010-04-24 03:23 (UTC)

"Guess you're at least a little bit older than me. It'd be even more weird if you were younger." As if the situation wasn't weird enough already. Talking turtle and all.

Isamu bowed back, even though it still felt awkward. "Yeah, it wasn't too bad."

"So I'll see ya Friday. Hopefully I'll get the place lookin' better by then."

He frowned at the dingy room, wishing he at least had mats. He'd have to recruit his brothers into making some before he started teaching throws, that's for sure. But that also meant bringing up the whole taking in a student thing to his brothers. It was inevitable, but he wasn't looking forward it.

Isamu just kind of smirked at the room. It definitely wasn't a traditional dojo, that was for sure.

"Should I expect Chateau de Tortue when I come back?"

"Uh..." That must've been French of something. Its meaning completely escaped him. "What?"

That caused Isamu to chuckle a bit. "I was just asking if you planned on giving it your own special flare."

"Oh." That what that meant? Well now he felt stupid. "Nah, I'll be happy just to get some mats in here. Think I'd rather avoid splatter paintin' the walls that way if I can help it."

And when you forget that he's there

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)