"Not a Victim." Self Defense Club [open]

[Martin Pratt]

Martin was a firm believer that everyone should know how to defend them self, because one just never knows what could happen. Other things also stemmed from that: the feeling of being prepared, confidence of one's self, and the wanting to continue to learn and practice. When the notice for clubs went around, Martin had it in the back of his mind that he wanted some sort of self defense class to happen, whether he taught it or a more seasoned staff member. He waited...and waited, but no one surfaced with a similar idea as him so he stepped forward (finally), and negotiated this club into being.

His club would share a room with other clubs, but he figured they would move to the gymnasium or the training field when they meet, but he figured this would be their 'home base,' and would work great as a first meeting place. He was headed towards the room at the moment, dressed like he was ready to work out, with a clipboard full of notes, a 'what we plan on doing' handout, and a list of names of students who had signed themselves up for the club on the bulletin board.

When he made it to their designated clubhouse, he peeked inside the glass window to see it was empty. Good. He opened the door with his key--being a security guard, he had almost all the keys to all the locks in the school--and went inside. The place was sparsely decorated, but he could see some of the other clubs' equipment that was too big to fit into drawers or closets pushed up against the wall. He set the clipboard on the desk and then went back to the door and propped it open.

He hoped those who wished to join this club would show up.

(Open to anyone who signed up or those that haven't yet but totally want to. n_n)

[shade]

Shade had joined a club. It was a fricken' miracle. In fact, she had joined a sport as well. Of course, she had her reasons. She hadn't joined to make friends. She had joined because she utterly loathed being at Hammel and wasn't about to let herself lose muscle. School sucked, so she needed something to do. Track would let her run and stay in fighting shape, as she hardly cared about getting fat. It was being unable to flee that worried her. Self defense offered her an opportunity to take out her aggression, though the cynic in her told her it was going to be a disappoint. In fact, she felt rather sure it was going to be a disappointment. She decided to go despite that.

Hands in her pockets, Shade made her way to the room where they were supposed to meet. She wasn't exactly early, but she showed in a timely manner. In fact, she was first aside from the instructor, but that was fine by her. Being late wasn't cool in her book. Pulling open the door, she stepped inside. It was cold outside, so she wore a sweatshirt over a T-shirt and dark jeans, hoping that she'd finally stopped accidentally shifting herself and wouldn't burn her clothes.

Shade stopped as soon as the door closed and turned her gaze to their instructor. She didn't know him. She didn't remember his name. Though the lack of whites in her eyes hide her sharp gaze, her eyes wandered over his form. It wasn't a sign of interest. He was fit, both a mark in his favor and a mark against. He wore loose clothing, but she didn't believe him armed. He was bigger than her, but he didn't look limber enough to do much harm. Deciding herself safe, she gave a halfhearted nod of greeting and settled herself at the back, leaning against the wall. She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

[Annabelle Coronova]

Bells didn't really know what to expect from this class. If had been at her old high school, she'd imagine it would have something to do with learning kung fu or where to punch someone if they approached you and try to steal your handbag. But then again, this school had surprised and surpassed her expectations over and over again, so what would be stopping them with a group with as vague of a name as "Not a Victim." Still, she didn't find that much harm in trying something new, whatever it happened to be. This should be her year of discovery and progress, maybe this club could help contribute to her success.

She had shuffled on over to the designated room for the club, with a campus map in tow. She was absolutely ruddy at any form of direction giving or receiving, and usually forgot where to go halfway through. But after asking around to various students, she had finally made her way to the 'clubhouse'. There was one person at the head of the room, who asserted himself like he would be in command, and one other individual, a girl, in the room, distancing herself from both the entrance and the instructor. Anna wasn't sure if she should follow suit and move closer to the back as well, but figuring that would make the girl even more uncomfortable, Anna politely smiled at both of the two people and headed for the opposite back corner of the room, where she leaned against the wall while looking down at her feet and the floor right beneath them.

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[Estelle Flores]

Estelle... probably didn't actually need to join this club, as she was already a brown belt in aikido. She didn't like it, because the idea of hurting someone on accident made her nervous, but she was good at it. She wasn't going to waste her sensei's time if she wasn't going to excel in the sport. That would just be rude. But that wasn't actually the point. The point was that she didn't need to go, and she wouldn't have, except for the fact that she felt that maybe she could make friends there, and she needed an excuse to exercise. She sighed, rubbing her hands against the soft material of her workout sweats. She had chosen not to go dressed in her dogi for several reasons. The main one being that she didn't want to seem like she was showing off. Sweats and a T-shirt worked perfectly well, and since this wasn't an actual aikido class, she wasn't under any obligation to wear it anyways.

When she opened the door to the room, she saw that there were three people already there: their instructor, a built, serious looking man; and two girls. One of whom she tentatively recognized as living in the same dorm as herself, but Estelle was a little embarrassed to admit that she'd never found the occasion to talk to her. Well, she supposed that was going to change now. The other girl was a blonde one, leaning against the back wall and staring at her feet. Estelle glanced up at the wall clock. She wasn't late. Still, she hoped she hadn't held everyone up.

"Hi." She said, smiling politely at the instructor, "I hope I didn't keep anyone waiting. Um. I'm Estelle Flores. This is the Not a Victim club meeting, yes?"

[Mayu Yoshiko]

Mayu hadn't wanted to sign up for any club activity, particularly one that installed violent motives into the young minds of the student body. But she had little choice in this matter. Her older brother had taken the time to sign her up, claiming she needed to know how to protect herself from that sort of situation. What sort of situation she would be in that called for violence, she wasn't entirely sure. Yet she would attend anyway, if only because her name was on the list. This would explain why she showed up to join in the barbarian practice.

Dressed in a casual deep blue sweat pants, Blood on the Dance Floor T-shirt, and paint splattered converse she walked into the slowly filling room. With expert eyes she glanced over the faces, searching her memory for any trace of a resemblance. When she came up blank Mayu looked through the black note book she always carried around. Notes on Clubs: Dragon runs it, watch out for fire. Seems to be mostly girls on the list. -To be continued. She sighed, shutting it once more. No help there.

"Mr. Pratt, is there a sign in sheet?" she pushed back a lock of chocolate tinted hair out of her face, though the bangs were obscuring her vision in the top half. She didn't look at the other people in the room, trying to seem as small and insignificant as possible so attention wouldn't be drawn to her.

[Martin Pratt]

Martin scratched at his head as the first few people started to file in. Girls sometimes were more vicious in fights than guys, especially if it was a fight between a girl and a boy. Martin had witnessed some pretty nasty brawls while he was living in the barracks, between female Marines and male Marines. He was not upset that only girls seemed to be showing up, either. It would lower the awkwardness, he believed, especially because guys generally had more problems partnering with a girl if they were going to be doing semi violent things together.

However, Martin did not plan to teach those in his club out to fight--that was not what this was about. He might give tips here and there, later on, but to first establish what this place was about, he was just going to be showing how to defend, deflect, and disarm. He didn't want to repeat the same speech seventeen million times, so he had initially held off even giving the smallest introduction, because he really hated repeating himself. He was admittedly slightly surprised when one of the girls addressed him by name--sure he had been around the school for a while, but he didn't exactly know anyone and he had generally assumed that went both ways, and no one knew him, sans the teachers. He smiled at the girl, though, and shook his head. "I've just got a little check list here." He responded to her and held the clip board up a little bit. He stood from his seat at the desk and moved around to the front of it, and leaned against it casually. Martin did his time with formalities and he was very sick of them.

"Hello everyone, as some of you may know, I am Martin Pratt. I work here as a security guard on most days of the week." Once that was out of the way, he cleared his throat to begin the introduction of the club. "I'm happy to see people are actually interested in this club, because honestly, I thought everyone would just roll there eyes at it. Anyway, in this club I'm going to be teaching you a range of useful skills that will help you get out of a fight--though hopefully none of you actually have to employ these skills. But there is a saying; the best weapons are the ones you never have to fire. And really, what's bad about being prepared? We'll probably meet on my day off--Tuesday evenings here in this room, before we move to the gym. If we need any equipment, I'll provide that so don't worry about forking over any sort of membership fee. But of course, donations are welcome." Martin chuckled faintly before he looked down at his clip board.

"Most of the things I am going to teach you stem from Brazilian and Japanese Jujitsu, and MCMAP-er Marine Corp Martial Arts Program--where I received my black belt. Please do not get what we are doing here mixed up with a run-of-the-mill fighting class. That is not what this is about. We'll be focusing completely on the defensive side of things, working towards quick incapacitation. I'm pretty sure I'd get canned if I taught you students how to fight. I'll sound like a broken record, I guarantee it, but seriously. Uhm...anyway. Today will just be a sorta get-to-know sort of thing. So. How about we just go around the room?" He asked looking between the four of them.

[shade]

Shade blanched as Martin, as she most certainly called him in her head, repeatedly mentioned that he couldn't actually teach them how to fight. She knew that the girls around her, most of them bigger than her but hardly any sort of threat, could use some knowledge of defensive moves, but she was beginning to think that coming was most definitely a waste of her time. One of her roommates was there, but that hardly swayed her opinion very much. She was a fighter by nature.

When Martin mentioned getting to know each other, Shade let her gaze immediately snap the girl who had come in after her. She obviously expected someone other than her to go. In fact, she didn't really think she would go at all. She suppose she could tell them her name, but that would probably be it. Arms still crossed in front of her chest, she kept her gaze turned expectantly towards Annabelle. Her black eyes revealed nothing. Her expression was blank, her posture defensive.

[Estelle Flores]

Estelle listened raptly as the instructor—Martin Pratt—explained what they were going to be learning. Brazilian and Japanese Jujitsu? Interesting. Estelle hadn’t done anything like that before. She was interested in what she could learn about those different styles. She was also gratified that she would be learning about “quick incapacitation” rather than actual fighting. It was easier to avoid hurting someone else that way. And Mr. Pratt seemed to know what he was doing; he would keep everything under control.

When he asked to go around the room, Estelle paused, looking at her other companions. None of them seemed very forthcoming. So as to not create too awkward a silence, Estelle raised her hand, “Uh. Well, my name is Estelle Flores, I’m –uh—a metallikinetic. I’ve been at Hammel for two years already.” She wondered if she should mention that she was already trained in some kind of martial arts. But she decided that that could wait until later. “It’s nice to meet you guys.” She smiled pleasantly at the group, folding her hands behind her back.