Dojo A-Go-Go, No? [Open]

[who_said_bald]

Characters: Ikkaku, plus trainees, insulting interlopers, etc.
Content: General conversation and combat training
Setting: Ikkaku's Dojo
Time: Mid-Day
Warnings: PG-13 (violent content, adult language)

Comments

[terra_inflexus]

Dojo, dojo, dojo...ah! Dojo! Well, that was easy.

Toph stepped into the room, trying to sense anyone else in the room. There was someone--tall, big, and probably scary looking--in the room. "Hey."

[who_said_bald]

Though she lacked sight, Ikkaku held no doubt that she would be able to sense the sudden rush of wind, the tell-tale signs of the air being parted ways as the edge of the spear he practiced with was suddenly swung straight down in front of her; the moment she entered, not even more than a single step in through the antiquated, sliding doorway, the gleaming tip of the weapon hovered mere inches away from her nose. The weapon was perfectly still, yet radiated a terrible bloodlust from its wielder, a perfectly palpable wave of intensity.

"Don't you guys know how to friggin' knock?" he said grimly, the sneer on his face utterly lost on his visitor.

[terra_inflexus]

"Too busy trying to find this stupid place," Toph replied, waving a hand. "And watch where you put that thing!"

[who_said_bald]

Retracting the weapon quickly, Ikkaku tightened his grip on the spear's pole, drew it back, and snapped the blunt end opposite the pointed tip sharply against the floor, pointing the weapon straight up towards the ceiling. Taller than Toph by a few heads, Ikkaku stared down at her studyingly, his eyes softly squinted at her small but solid shape. Suddenly, he leaned down towards her, arching his back until he met her eye to 'eye'.

"Well, you're here now, aren't you?" he replied firmly. "At least introduce yourself, and mind what you call 'stupid'. I built this place up myself."

FFFFF SORRY FOR BEING LATE

[inyourmidst]

Gin didn't need to enter the Dojo to know what Madarame was doing. At times he didn't even need to be on the same side of the ship, despite his tainting claim that he couldn't feel a thing. So the man had a slightly more impressive spiritual force than his outward appearence suggested - he must have had in order to reach Bankai - but that didn't mean Gin was going to acknowlage it in the slightest.

Nor would he acknowlage the effort of training. "My, my, that looks rather boring. Aren't your arms getting tired?"

He'd purposefully waited until he'd felt Madarame's power start to wane, letting him tire out a little, not because Gin had any reason to be wary of him but mostly because he wanted to see if the figurative dog still had such a loud bark when his bite wasn't quite so sharp.

Gin is always fashionably late, of course~

[who_said_bald]

By the time Gin had arrived, peeking his head into the treasured sanctity of Ikkaku's dojo, the owner was long since starting to lose steam. His arms felt as if the muscles running down his limbs were starting to flay from their bones, gone past a simple burning weariness long ago. His breath came in long, labored grunts with each of the spear's revolutions. Ichimaru's intrusion actually came at a convenient time, when Ikkaku found a reason to quit before his arms simply fell off. He paused, gripping the spear's body tightly within his hand, and turned towards Gin.

"Not one bit, Ichimaru-san," he said, masking his wear and tear with a perfectly confident look. "You should give this a try sometime - y'know, training. It'd be interesting if you actually got a little stronger."

Not that Gin needed it; muscle never seemed to be his style, though he knew the man was still no slouch. What Ikkaku knew he lacked in Ichimaru's stronger reiatsu, he attempted to make up for in senselessly destructive capabilities.

Y-yes! Let me pretend that this is JUST AS PLANNED.

[inyourmidst]

"Oh?" Gin said, drawing out the sylable playfully. He kept his hands laced behind his back, a lazy grace in his walk as he dared to step into the man's sanctuary. While the uninitiated wouldn't be able to sense what he did, there was a lingering trace of burning ozone in the air, the result of unleashed power that had probably made the room tremble at its full strength. "I'm not sure you're in much of a position to judge...unless you actually know how strong I am?"

The question was posed almost as a dare. He had watched Madarame carefully over the last few months, and by now he was pretty confident he'd taken the man's measure. In contrast, however, Gin hadn't unleased even a fraction of his true potential except on Long Night, and that had been done in the provacy of the wilderness. Still, there were always hints, and he wondered how many Madarame had been able to piece together about him.

[who_said_bald]

Customarily, Ikkaku would have simply rolled his eyes at Gin's taunting barbs, cutting though they always were, but this time, Ikkaku simply kept his gaze fixed frigidly upon Gin as he walked inside. The situation was clearly different than usual, for a reason that may have been unclear to many: Gin, who had not been invited into the dojo, was now inside, now within the boundaries of Ikkaku's good graces as this was practically his home, his honor in danger of being impuned by the challenging intrusion. Without a conscious thought towards it, Ikkaku now acted as a predator facing another predator, facing off over territory and rights

ALSO LATE OOPS <3

[swallow_wing]

Cirucci halted as she reached the dojo, feet pressing close together as she came to a stop. Her body was held surprisingly upright: no pop of the hip, no teasing knee bend, no coy tilt of the head. Even her lips were set in a thin line; no, this wasn't how she would have done things. Fight without a weapon? It was ridiculous. Golondrina was so restless, and she'd been itching to show her off, just how pretty Golondrina was in all her glory--

She raised her hand to knock, but her knuckles more so grazed over the wall than anything; if she did produce any sound, it was more of a faint, light rustle, both from her skin on wood and the brush of her skirt against her legs. She took a step in. "Oi. Madarame." Her voice, now flat, was absent of its usual teasing lilt. She surveyed the room, eyes similarly scanning Ikkaku with a critical air. When she spoke again, her tone had its usual lighter, flitting quality--but with a sarcastic bent. "It's your favorite ribbon-maker~"

Cirucci emphasizes the 'fashion' in Fashionably Late~

[who_said_bald]

By the time she had arrived, slightly later in the afternoon, Ikkaku was sitting at rest in the center of the room, his legs folded neatly beneath him against the tan-stained tatami lining. He sat there with his hands folded in his lap and a sheathed katana resting underneath his arms, its smooth, lacquered surface gleaming in the room's centered lighting. Ikkaku's eyes were softly shut at first, but upon hearing the woman's flat, stale tone addressing him - without honorifics, even - one of his eyebrows twitched sharply, and his gaze opened.

"I guess if I had a favorite one of those, it'd be you..." he said, sighing in a lazy tone. Meditating was never his favorite part of training, but he knew it was an important one; interrupting it and breaking his fragile concentration only made things worse. He yawned a little, then looked up at her, asking, "So, what didja want again?"

Re: Cirucci emphasizes the 'fashion' in Fashionably Late~

[swallow_wing]

"What did I--" Cirucci clenched her jaw closed, eyes narrowing. Really, for the fool to 'forget'--

Sighing, Cirucci leaned back against the nearest wall, propping the sole of her foot against it. "I'm here," she spoke, tone didactic in her voice's pointed slowness, "to train with you. You're looking for sparring partners, aren't you?"

Kicking herself off the wall, she took a few steps in his direction; when she paused, she rolled onto the balls of her feet, using her heightened position to nearly leer at him. "I can already tell how low you think of me. I'm not dumb." Her tone was oddly level, and quieter than usual. Her hands rested on her hips. "You're one of those men, after all."

[who_said_bald]

Raising his hands high over his head, Ikkaku stretched his lean, strong arms out as far above him as he could, forcing the blood to flow through his limbs and awaken them from the stillness of his meditation. His face contorted sharply, clentching as he let out another, deeper yawn, and he shook his head vigorously in order to regain his focus