Kimura Academy - IC

[Haikufrenzy]

The sun slowly rose up through the buildings, landscape, and plains of Kyoto as the ground of Kimura Academy came to life for the first time in months. As the new school year began the buzz was already beginning to brew. Not just for the usual things that come with a new school year, but for the school’s premiere competition. The year long team fighting tournament of Team Open Palm, and Team Closed Fist. For those attending, and people in the city itself, the tournament makes local celebrities out of its captains and competitors. Even if the results have been a tad one sided lately.

Inside the men’s dorm an alarm clock started to beep away. The moaning from under the cover indicated life as a large hand slapped down on the snooze button, breaking the clock right down the middle. As the very large man got out of bed, it creaked heavily under the immense weight it was holding up. Daiki Yamamoto yawned, shaking out his somewhat long hair and scratching the top of his head. The start of the new year, it was a big deal for everyone in Open Palm. They were the defending champions. With no plans on giving up the title any time soon. Going through the usual morning routine of showering, brushing teeth, and getting his hair into a short ponytail that more stuck out then drooped down. He spent a moment looking at himself in the mirror. The massive gut that stuck out over his tied towel. He gave it a light slap, watching it wiggle, smiling a bit to himself. To some the idea of a large man being happy about his shape seems weird. But for Daiki he could still remember when he was little, so frail he could see his own bones through his skin. He was proud of his figure, very proud. It made him strong, only the team captain could make a serious claim to being stronger. Not to mention there was a pride in being a sumo wrestler attending Kimura. Not many have, but just about all have gone on to Yokozuna status.

As he got his specially tailored (as in for his oversized self) school uniform on. He stepped out of his room to Prince Cameron in his own uniform. Team captain of Open Palm. The guy was a hulking masterpiece of muscles and form. He was a nice enough guy to those who knew him well enough. “Hey Daiki, ready for the year big man?” Prince asked, giving Daiki a light, but still somewhat painful punch on the shoulder. “Always, you know me.” Daiki responded. Despite wearing the school uniform Prince had on a t-shirt underneath that one of the other students had made for him. A white silhouette of him handing “the royal flush” on an opponent with orange lettering of his name all on a black shirt. That was Prince though, as humble as he comes across sometimes, his just as, if not more, loud about many topics. The personal favorite subject for Prince being, of course, himself and his own awesomeness. As the two walked out of the dorms, carrying their school supplies in tow as they randomly talked about things.

[Vonghese]

Can't you tell the sun's about to rise?

The polar bear froze in midstep and turned its head to look at the source of the voice. Standing in his usual half-crouch, Jack closed his eyes and sighed. "Not you, not here."

Of course I'm here. You need to get going. The sun will be up in a few minutes, and you need to get back to your room.

The huge white beast made a confused chuffing noise and looked back and forth.

Jack sighed. "We've been over this before. My dreams are mine, you're not welcome inside."

Your orders were, and I quote, "Stay the hell out of my dreams unless there's an emergency. If I'm dreaming about Emma Watson, don't wake me up unless it's life threatening. And that doesn't look like Emma Watson.

His eys snapped open. "She's waiting for me back in the palace, asshat."

Your reluctance to wake up is quite disturbing. What if there was a fire?

While they bickered, the polar bear settled back to wait, smoking a thoughtful hookah.

"Shyeesh, all right," Jack grumbled at last. "Give me a second."

He relaxed his stance, standing subedachi and bowing formally. "Until next time," he told the bear.

"I'll be back," the bear cautioned, in a voice exactly like that of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Sighing again, the young man made an effort of will, and opened his eyes again.

He met the still-sleeping face of a young woman, one of the other students at the martial arts academy. For a while, Jack considered morning sex, or maybe just rolling over and going back to sleep, but iron discipline prevailed, barely. Untangling his arm, he shook her gently. "Hey, wake up," he said in a soft voice. "First call is in twenty minutes, you'd better get back to your room."

The girl yawned, showing very white and straight teeth, and flashed dark eyes at him. "Oh, come on," she said, feigning a pout. "It can't be morning already... Here, come here and..."

Why are you kissing her? You already ensured the survival of your superior genetics, there's no reason to delay.

I've got time. Now shut up, killjoy, or I'll crawl in one ear and chokeslam you out the other.

The harsh, growling voice that had been running commentary on his life since he was ten years old subsided, allowing Jack to extracate himself from the girl's arms. He crawled out of the nest they'd made in the loft and stretched, feeling every bone in his back pop into place. After such a rambunctious night, Jack was tired and sore, though he regretted none of it.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" the girl asked.

Jack wasn't sure. It wasn't that he feared attachments, and he certainly didn't think he'd done anything to be ashamed of, but he'd always been shy about making time commitments. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in the girl, that wasn't the problem. The problem was... the wolverine.

The spirit-guide was a wolverine, through and through. Ferocious and strong, a strong ally in a fight, the creature whose teeth and claws rested in a pouch bound under his hair, was still an animal, with primitive needs. Mating was always one of its chief concerns, and it tended to fixate on girls as strongly as he did normally. Wolverine males usually took three or four mates, and remained largely faithful to those it chose. This had a lot of potential for awkwardness, since it basically meant that at the moment, he had three girlfriends, all of whom were oblivious to the existence of the others. He kept all relationships discreet, and didn't lead the girls on with any promises, but they were attracted to the feral lust and hunger of the wolverine every bit as much as they were to his copper skin and ripped abs.

Which was a shame, since Jack was the long-term type in other respects. He grabbed the thermos he'd left by their nest, and sipped still-warm coffee as he headed down the stairs to his dorm room. When the floorboards ahead indicated someone else was coming, he dropped the empty thermos into a trash can and nodded to the early riser with a greeting that was much more energetic than he felt. Stepping into an empty classroom, he slipped out the window and down one story to land lightly on his dorm's windowsill. Once inside, he grabbed a shower kit and headed out the door to begin his toilet.

Still a little draggy, he wasted time avoiding the exposure of the scratches on his back, and was consequently a bit late coming back to his dorm. On his way back, he tossed a casual salute to his team leader and a brother, easily the biggest guys in the school. Jack himself was only 5'6", and build lean, but his muscles were well defined, without a single ounce of spare fat anywhere he could perceive. The wolverine's appetites countered a naturally high metabolism, making him cut, if not quite the V shape that Prince boasted.

[Fabricant451]

For most of the student body at Kimura Academy the day was just beginning. The sun was rising to greet the new school year and with the sun came the rising of heads, both fresh faced and old. For Sae-Jin, the day started two hours ago before the sun came up and before there were any signs of life roaming the halls. For Sae-Jin, a new school year meant another year at spreading the word about the Open Palm in the form of flyers plastered on every announcement board on campus. Of course, Sae-Jin knew that flyers were superfluous given that there was probably not a student in attendance that didn't know about the reigning champs. Which is why the flyers she was putting up were less about the Open Palm as a whole and more about herself.

"Finally!" Sae-Jin took a step back from hanging the final flyer to truly admire it. The flyer was just a large publicity photo of Sae-Jin after the Open Palm had won the title yet again; the photo was cleaned up a bit because no one wanted to see Sae-Jin dirtied and looking injured. Or so she justified as she spent hours looking through the various photo albums about her to find the perfect picture for advertisement. Underneath the image was her name in large, fancy script and off to the right, as if buried, was the Open Palm logo and information. "Perfect!" she nodded, enjoying the fruits of her labor.

Sae-Jin wiped the small bit of sweat from her forehead. Now that the sun was rising she was aware of just how much time she had spent dashing around the campus. If nothing else it was a good work-out. Her legs, her weapon of choice when it came to fights, could always use the extra work-out. Hearing the faint sounds of life, Sae-Jin reached into her pocket and pulled out a small mirror. The running hadn't messed up her hair, which she had in a bun today, which was good. She had to look presentable to her soon-to-be adoring public. Such was the price of popularity, but Sae-Jin was more than willing to pay that fee. Putting on her best smile, Sae-Jin proceeded to walk towards the sounds of student life, eager to welcome the newcomers.

[theracoon]

Lev was already awake when the alarm went off, he had not had a good night's sleep. Lev was a light sleeper at best and he could have sworn someone was running around the corridors at n annoyingly early hour. He slipped out from under covers and rolled, not particularly elegantly, out of the bed. Lev rifled through his uncannily neatly arranged drawers, carefully extracting his uniform.

Looking at Lev you would not have guessed he was such a high level fighter. His body was well built but relatively slim, especially compared to some of the giants. His clothes hung about hime hiding the muscle. He was a relatively forgettable person all in all, and his dark, vacant eyes and pale skin gave him a ghostly quality.

As he paced down the hall is dark eyes where gleaming with excitement and curiosity. He was walking in a daze. He couldn't help but wonder whether anyone had seen systema before. He guessed not, as it was not very well known, even in Russia. More exciting was the prospect of facing real fighters. He smirked under his breath. He felt excitement welling up inside him, it was a warm, buzzing sensation. He practically glided towards the activity, hoping to see the competition.

[Agent B52]

Shizuku's day began at six o'clock sharp, as usual. Blinking the sleep out of her grey green eyes she savoured the warmth of her bed for just a second before kicking off the blankets and rolling out. Mentally the fifteen year old reviewed her schedule for the day as she started her wake up routine of stretches and stances. A team meeting first today if she recalled correctly. The very thought of the Open Palm made her smile, a ludicrously happy feeling radiating from her very core. Shizuku occasionally had difficulty believing she and her infant style had landed a spot on that elite team. At other times she wanted to shout her success from the roof tops, and in the faces of those who had derided her. Her face fell into a grimmer smile as the memories of those insults came to the fore unbidden.

'A dirty gun? Are you mad?' 'It's impossible to create something as beautiful as an art with a crude crutch like that.' 'They'll never want a trigger happy american cowgirl.' 'You'll never succeed with a weapon like that.' 'Your so called style is an insult to the true arts.' 'When you mix mud with wine, all you create is more mud.'

Well here she was now with her dirty crude crutch of a weapon and her muddy style! A proud member of the flagship team of the best martial arts school in the world. Shizuku would show them all that her style was a compliment, not an insult. Done with her unarmed stances she kicked up her wooden mock-up M16 from it's stand next to her bed. Snatching the spinning shape out of the air her lean frame flowed into an aggressive thrust before dropping into her armed ready stance. Her smile turned happy again as the comforting smooth wooden replica fell into position. Hell yes she'd show them all.

Like any true martial arts school the early hour was extremely busy. Now showered and in her school uniform, Shizuku dove into the morning rush. Her weapon bounced on her back, it's leather sling keeping it only loosely in place, dancing a merry jig with her raven black braid. Her lightly tanned knuckles went hidden under gauze wraps, keeping a tight grip on the apple she was munching on. Idly she wondered when the actual breakfast would be as she dove under a pair of jiu-jitsu practitioners that were wall jumping through the halls. Shizuku barely blinked, she kind of expected students in a martial arts school to behave like, well, martial artists. Wait a minute, what was this? Her sharp eye for detail picked up on a poster that at first glance seemed to be promoting Sae-Jin's performance at some place.

Skidding to a halt in front of it Shizuku looked more closely. Muffled away in a corner of the poster was the contact data for the open palm team. How strange it only featured a single member, maybe they had several different posters with a different member each? The half blood Japanese/British tilted her head to the side as she scanned the girl in the picture meticulously. Sae Jin was obviously a speedster like herself. Unlike Shizuku she sported a very well groomed appearance with professionally applied make up, something Shizuku herself didn't spare the time or money for. Her Legs (they just deserved capitalisation) were not just perfectly shaped for attractiveness but also for lethality; Sae Jin packed a mean kick. Shizuku nodded to herself, she wanted to learn from this person. Hopefully the star performer wouldn't be too put off by her weapon of choice, but Shizuku would cross that bridge once she got there.

Speaking of there, Shizuku pulled out her roster for a quick glance where she was supposed to be right now.

[Valtyr]

The loud blaring of the alarm clock was only offset by the rhythmic banging of fists on a punching bag. Takeda took a break as the alarm was ringing, taking a breather and wiping the sweat from his brow. He walked over to dresser by his bed, pressing the dismiss button. Takeda decided before starting his daily routine he would finish his work out. Going back to the bunching bag he raised his fists and got into a standard boxing stance, easily bouncing between the balls of his feet. Takeda threw a series of strong, quick jabs. Smoothly he transitioned into a comfortable Muay Thai boxing stance, enacting a series of devastating punches, elbows and knee strikes. Hopping back a bit to give a little distance between himself and the punch bag. Beginning to dance from left to right he had transfered into a Capoeira fighting style. Suddenly flipping forward into a hand stand from the dance, torquing his hips to twin a whirlwind of kicks as he was upside down to assault the punching bag. Pushing off his hands he was air born and flipping forward towards the bag. Grappling the bag with his arms and legs he gripped it in a way that resembled an MMA full body hold. Takeda squeezing with all his might the leather of began to crack with strain til some of the seam snapped and small beads began to cascade out.

Takeda released the bag and stood up, quickly grabbing the duct tape off the dresser and covering the hole before the mess was to bad. He swept up the beads and tossed them in the trash before heading to start his hygiene routine; Showering, brushing his teeth, combing his hair back and tying it into a loose ponytail with a few strands falling and framing his strong facial features. He slipped on his school uniform, he hated it. It was too snug and rigged compared to the street clothes he wore before joining the school. Takeda left his dorm and began heading down and out of the dorms and through the courtyard. Takeda was rather introverted and made little to no friends so he wasn't stopped while walking down the stone trail, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

[Cedric of trall]

Hey get up or you'll be late Trevor Zimmerman grumbled something in old norse before throwing a pillow at the annoying sound trying to wake him from whatever crazy dream his mind could dream up,Ok fine but dont blame me if your late on your first day to karate school butt head his younger sister Lisa shouted at him before slamming the door to his room. Even in his half conscious state he could hear her stomping down the hall in the condo they shared, Trevor rolled off what could only be called a seven on the Richter scale as it had lost its right to be called a bed the second Trevor had started sleeping in it. She doesn't have to be so loud in the morning he complained as he did a few quick stretches, shes liable to wake the dead with that kinda racket he continued to gripe as he showered and dressed himself. Despite his training he never liked waking up, and as such he wasn't what one would call a morning person. So the grumbling and griping continued right up until he walked out his front door a half eaten slice of toast hanging lazily from his mouth and realized he was heading to Kimura Academy, he stood in front of his condo staring out across the city and to the famous school, he was a student there and part of the closed fist team to boot! How on earth did that happen, why did he get accepted on the team or even to the academy? After a couple minutes standing there looking like an idiot he shook himself finished his toast and laughed who cares why he got in, he did and that was the point! Still chuckling to himself he slipped headphones over his ears, and the deep bass drops and crazy tones of his favorite music was the background music to his walk to school. This was going to be a good year he thought as he half danced on to the school grounds.