fandomhigh | Karate, Gym, May 24, Wednesday Morning

"Welcome to Karate, everyone." Tommy says, looking around at the class. "I'm Doctor Oliver, but you can call me Dr. O if you want," he may have rolled his eyes a little.

"This workshop is essentially a survey course of many different styles of karate that have been developed. Each has their benefits and their drawbacks, of course. Hopefully you'll find a style that works for you as a result of this course.

While we're training in here, this gym isn't just a gym. It's a dojo. As such, I expect you all to pay attention to the rules of the dojo:

Seek perfection of character
Be faithful
Endeavour to excel
Respect others
Refrain from violent behaviour

Now, to start things off- I know we have a mix of different skill levels. For those of you who are more advanced, could you provide a short demonstration? For those of you who are just starting out, give this a try." He says, demonstrating the steps slowly.

[ooc: annnnd, i'm likely going to be away from the computer till about 3:30 pacific time. so interaction with tommy will happen after that. don't let that stop you, though!]

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"There is a lot," she agreed. "Sorting out the good from the bad can be difficult. And there's so many differnt styles. But like I said, my tastes are all over the place. I'll have to make a mix up for you and you can see what you'd like."

Isabel laughed, "That's a two part answer. I came to Fandom from Roswell, New Mexico. But originally I'm from out there." She held her hand up, pointing a finger towards the sky.

"You would so very much have my eternal gratitude for that," Peter said with a laugh.

"You're an alien then? Like Aeryn?"

"Oh please, with my laptop? It's easy. The hardest part will be picking out what to put on the CD," Isabel grinned.

"I am. I'm from a planet called Antar."

"Well, you have a completely blank slate at your disposal. Untainted by any modern music other than 'Ever the Same' for over sixty years."

Peter cocked his head at Isabel, "how did you come to New Mexico then? And New Mexico - that's one of the square ones in the middle, right?"

Isabel facepalmed as what that meant sank in. "Oh my god, you missed the Beatles? The Rolling Stones? Oh Peter, we have to fix this."

"It is, we wound up there after our ship crashed in the desert outside of Roswell. In 1947."

"I'll take your word for it? Though Tyler mentioned the Beatles to me the other day. The fact that I thought he was talking about insects for a while made the conversation very interesting."

"So you came forward in time too?" Peter asked excitedly. "That would be three of us from the '40s!"

Isabel laughed, remembering a similar conversation she had been involved in. Only that had been about nun porn (http://community.livejournal.com/fh_trips/9557.html). "That's a problem here, altough it's usually not about music. It's about misunderstanding euphemisms."

"I didn't come forward in time. We were in pods, hidden away in the desert until ten years ago," she explained. "When we finally came out, we looked like we were about six. We've aged naturally ever since."

Peter nodded, having experienced euphemistic misunderstandings himself. "Are there any in particular that you'd like to take pity upon a poor boy and warn him of?" he asked with a grin.

"Do you remeber anything from before that?" Peter asked before his sense of reserve caught up to him. "Oh, do forgive me for being rude. I ought not pry." He swept a bow of apology.

"Somehow I don't consider you a poor boy," Isabel laughed. "I think you can take care of yourself. But still, the big one used around here is scrapbooking. Depending on who mentions it? It could mean the arts and crafts kind of scrapbooking. Or it could mean, well, scrapbooking," she said with a wink.

Isabel reached out towards Peter's arm. "Please, it's fine. I don't mind talking about it. I wouldn't have said anything if it bothered me. It's not like you can tell I'm not from around here just by looking at me," she smiled. "And to answer your question, no I don't remember anything from before we woke up."

Peter laughed as well, "scrapbooking? Really? I suppose knitting was already taken for another euphemism? At home, that's often referred to as examining the stonework."

"And that's definitely true," Peter said with a wink. "You are far prettier than the conception of those from another planet I read about in comic books as a little boy. Then if I may ask another question - you've said "we," where are your..." Peter looked for a word. "siblings?"

"Scrapbooking," she repeated. "I'm not sure where it came from, someone had to protect someone's sensibilities." Isabel laughed, "Stonework? Well I've heard if you go to the beach it's called watching the submarine races."

"Max and Michael are back in Roswell. I wanted a change and wound up here."

"Watching the submarine...ohhh...that's horrible," Peter said as he caught on. "Was it quite a change then? I can't imagine any school being quite as different as Fandom is."

"Actually I think it might be kind of enjoyable," Isabel snickered. "As long as you're careful about the sand."

"It was a change. Particularly since I wanted to go somewhere and forget I was anything but a normal student." She shook her head and laughed, remembering her first day. "Then I got here, met a small purple dragon, and got warned about zombies, gremlins, and vampires."

Karate, Gym, May 24, Wednesday Morning

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