Martha Jones (
selfrespecting) wrote in
entrancelogs2014-04-16 07:08 am
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in the morning light [OPEN]
Who: Martha Jones and OPEN.
Where: The grounds, near the gardens. (Also the clinic!)
When: 4/14 - 4/18
Rating: PG
Summary: Martha's determined to stay fit and be more prepared for any future dangers. The answer to that? T'ai chi.
The Story:
It's not that Martha's meant to slack off on her morning exercises. It's just that sometimes she has to work and ends up too lazy to get out of bed early enough to exercise before her shift. Either that, or there's an event that comes around and completely distracts her and throws her off of her routine.
Since February there haven't been any serious dangers that have hit the mansion, but that only makes her more convinced that something's coming, and soon. She's already given up one death out of five now, and she doesn't intend to let her life slip away from her again.
T'ai chi is more of a defensive form of martial arts, but it's a place to start, at least -- and with help from Blake, she's gotten decent at it. So each morning on this particular week, Martha forces herself out into the dewy mornings to train her body. She usually picks a spot out on the fields, not too far away from the gardens. It's also a way of clearing her mind, a meditation of sorts, and she finds that it puts her in a good place for the rest of the day.
Does she need to learn some actual offensive methods too? Most likely. But she hasn't quite worked herself up to ask around for that yet.
Later on in the day, Martha can be found in the clinic, as usual. She's just gone out of her way to make her shifts the afternoon ones, at least for this week, so that she can become more serious about her own training. Wonderland offers plenty of free time and she would rather make the most of it.
Where: The grounds, near the gardens. (Also the clinic!)
When: 4/14 - 4/18
Rating: PG
Summary: Martha's determined to stay fit and be more prepared for any future dangers. The answer to that? T'ai chi.
The Story:
It's not that Martha's meant to slack off on her morning exercises. It's just that sometimes she has to work and ends up too lazy to get out of bed early enough to exercise before her shift. Either that, or there's an event that comes around and completely distracts her and throws her off of her routine.
Since February there haven't been any serious dangers that have hit the mansion, but that only makes her more convinced that something's coming, and soon. She's already given up one death out of five now, and she doesn't intend to let her life slip away from her again.
T'ai chi is more of a defensive form of martial arts, but it's a place to start, at least -- and with help from Blake, she's gotten decent at it. So each morning on this particular week, Martha forces herself out into the dewy mornings to train her body. She usually picks a spot out on the fields, not too far away from the gardens. It's also a way of clearing her mind, a meditation of sorts, and she finds that it puts her in a good place for the rest of the day.
Does she need to learn some actual offensive methods too? Most likely. But she hasn't quite worked herself up to ask around for that yet.
Later on in the day, Martha can be found in the clinic, as usual. She's just gone out of her way to make her shifts the afternoon ones, at least for this week, so that she can become more serious about her own training. Wonderland offers plenty of free time and she would rather make the most of it.
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Luckily though for him, someone was indeed at the clinic. He went inside, hoping it was okay that he didn't exactly have an appointment or anything of the sort. And luckily too, he had met Martha before, though the circumstances then weren't all that great. It might be better now.
"Hi." He offered Martha a smile. It had been some time since they last spoke. "Sorry to bother you... Are you busy now?"
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Did you want to handwave / fade to black from here?
Sure! That works for me, thanks!
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Her hand wrapped in a clean towel, Ellen heads for the clinic. She's been there once when she first arrived, but like most hunters, she knows how to take care of most wounds - including bullet, stab, and axe wounds - by herself. The problem is this one is on her dominant hand and she's never managed stitches with her off hand. Plus, she needs someone to make sure she got all the glass out.
Ellen pokes her head in the clinic. "You're Martha right? Got a sec?"
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(okay, late morning. That one time she got up early to say hi to everyone was enough) that she finds Martha.
She pauses when she sees her, never having seen something like this before. She watches Martha move, trying to commit everything to memory. Of course, that's easier said than done, but it looks interesting enough. After a moment she attempts a move that very vaguely resembles Martha. "So, what exactly do you call this sort of exercise, anyway?" she asks.
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When Martha seems to be at a stopping point, he claps quietly.
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The good part of Wonderland, he thinks, is that even this fast paced life won't leave him behind the humans. Everyone is stuck in their current age, just like him, lives stretching out infinitely as long as they're in this world. Which is pretty weird, but also kinda nice.
Sleep hadn't come easily last night. Not for any particular or dramatic reason; America just kept finding new, fun things to do: watching Captain America (again), cleaning up his room, Luke, Luke (again), getting way too engrossed in some generic young adult book, wanting to wake everyone he knows up to talk about said book but getting distracted by the sun breaking over the horizon. At that point he decided fuck it. It's already tomorrow, he may as well keep being awake. Grabbing some coffee from the kitchen, America ambles his way out to the grounds to give his raptors an early morning walk.
He shuffles around on the dewy grass in a beautiful shirt and pajama pants like a college student on his way to an 8am class. This is hardly the longest he's gone without sleep, but he can still feels like he's treading an uncomfortable line between alert and intoxicated. It's with bleary eyes and slow recognition that he spots Martha. She's dancing, or beating up the air, America doesn't really know and he's not putting much effort into thinking. He'll just go ahead and interrupt whatever it is to ask her himself.
"Whatcha doin' up this early? Got a vendetta 'gainst oxygen?"
He grins and snickers like he's made an incredibly clever joke. In a sleep-deprived mind, it is.
huehuehue cap reference
HE'S READY
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And now he's here, in sight of her, it's too awkward to turn on his heel and go back. But interrupting her would be rude. And watching her wave her limbs in the air without saying anything is creepy.
The absolute worst thing he can do is try to copy her as she does some kind of slow, one leg kick with arms in the air. But he does, anyway, and it leaves him wobbling like a baby giraffe on a trampoline.
"Wow. How long does it take you to learn how to-" is as far as he gets in the way of conversation before he has to hop fervently to keep his balance. "Geez, do you have legs made of steel?"
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15th!
More than that, there's almost always people in the clinic, people keeping things moving, and they're not half-bad to spend time around, like Martha. Even if no one's talking, company is company. Just the presence of someone else has been a lot better than what's been waiting for him in his room the last few months, which is nothing. That, above all, has been really nice.
He could do without a serial killer who looks like his half-brother in the other room, but he's not really in a position to complain about that, much as he'd like to some days. He's had more than a few bad days himself, some due to hangovers, some due to not being self-medicated and still trying to learn from her in steely silence, a wild light in his eyes.
Stability's been good, and he appreciates it more than he can say. Sometimes, like now, it's nice to hang out once his work is over with a medical text or two. Hitting the books is something that still relaxes him.]
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