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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Settin up for the grab an' go
Sam rolled his eyes as Miss Willow’s report came over the PA. The Kid done got hisself hurt and we ain’t so much as popped the airlock. Just shiny!
“What the hell happened so he got himself broke,” Wyatt demanded.
“Th’ li’l billy-goat prob’ly got excitable, grabbed Kora’s keester an’ got ‘is elbow broke,” Sam laughed, “Give ‘im one night wit’ a hooker an’ th’ Kid thinks he’s Don Juan er somethin’.” He also muttered an apology to the Doc when she mentioned the state of her stomach after the jaunt through the comet’s tail but, otherwise was focused on bringing Roc to roost. He nodded his thanks as Wyatt ended his chat with the folk in the engine room and helped bring the ship around. Even before the magnetic locks had clamped Rocinante to the docking port, Sam’s mind was sorting through his gear and, by the time Wyatt clapped him on the shoulder and said “Get strapped, Sam. The crew o’ Celestia’s likely t’ want words. I want t’ make sure we’re doing the right sort o’ talkin’,” the pilot had a good mind that he’d be loading pretty heavy.
“Two shakes ahead of ya, Wyatt,” he grinned, hauling himself out of his seat and stomping purposefully towards his cabin, “Catch up wit’ ya inna hold.” Once inside, he wasted no time in peeling off his shirt and shrugging his way into the ballistic mesh shirt that he kept in his locker, then covering the armor again with the faded, gray T-shirt that designated him as an “Authorized Distributor of a No. 9 Boot in the Ass”. He also made sure to tug his beat up denim jacket on over that as the inside pocket of the thing had proven to be a great place to store a couple of cigar-shaped flash-bangs. After double checking his derringers, strapping on his gunbelt and combat knife, Sam opted, also, to carry the shotgun this time around. Wasn’t it some president or some such from Earth-that-was once said, fly it like ya stole it an’ carry a big stick?
“Might not’ve been them precise words,” Sam grinned, answering his own unspoken query as he cinched the SPAS 30’s sheathe to his back, “but close ‘nuff fer me.” He flicked a quick glance at the cortex panel mounted to the wall, hoping that there might be a wave from Tink waiting but, seeing that the indicator was still dark, resigned himself to having to wait a while longer and climbed back out onto the foredeck.
((OOC: Not sure if Miss Wil would’ve been invited in to Wyatt’s cabin or if they’d be standing out on the deck… if Sam finds them on the deck, he’ll leave them to their conversatin’ with little more than a nod in passing and maybe a quick apology to the Doc for the turbulence…))
"…Ready for trouble or looking for it,” he heard the Doc’s voice say to Wyatt as he slid past, “I'd suggest that Asher remain on the ship with me for a least an hour or so. That burn was bad, but I didn't want to scare him and send him into shock. He's stable, now, but needs real mending if he wants to keep the full use of his arm. Burn scars are the worst to heal, especially around a joint. "
Ruttin’ fantastic, Sam snarled inwardly as he disappeared through the hatch to the galley and continued on towards the engine room, if them se duhng from Celestia show up lookin’ fer a tussle tha’ means the Kid’s only got th’ one hand ta shoot with… Gorramit but this jus’ keeps gettin’ better an’ better!
“Hey, Kora,” he hollered, poking his head through the doorway to the engine room when he caught sight of the mechanic already in the process of assessing the damage, “ever’thin’ shiny back here, mei mei? I din’t hump nuthin’ too all-fired important did I?... Kid’s down in the ‘firmary, right?... An’ what inna hump is that smell?!”
(Assuming some kind of reply… “Actually, Dash, ya humped it real good… Now leave me the hell alone so’s I c’n fix it! Get outta here or I’m runnin’ this wrench up yer butt”, etc… Up to Kora if she says anything about the cat… assuming she doesn’t…  )
“A’right, a’right,” he grinned ducking back out of the doorway so as not to get hit with any tools that might be launched his way, “no need ta get tetchy, darlin’! I was jus’ askin’…Buddha’s balls!
We’s like ta have company comin’,” he hollered back over his shoulder as he bounded down the steps to the lower decks, “jus’ so’s ya know. Don’ go tearin’ down nothin’ as we’re gonna need if we have to leave this bitch in a lurch, get me?...”
And when he got to the bottom of the stair, his gaze swept over the converted secondary hold in search of the supposedly injured Asher. “…Where ya at, Kid,” he called, knowing damn well that Wil had sent him to the infirmary and that’s likely where he was. Dash peeked in after catching sight of the Kid sitting a bit anxiously in the chair. “Ya a’right, Ash,” he asked, “not jus’ playin’ sick so’s ya c’n go roll ‘round in them sheets is ya?” He’d caught a peep at the Kid’s arm, of course, and could tell that it was a serious enough injury that being holed up in the Doc’s den was the best place for him to be but Dash knew better than to let on as to how bad it looked.
(Again, assuming some kind of answer…)
“Don’ sweat it, Kid,” he winked, “Miss Will’s like ta have ya patched up in two shakes. Hell, it don’ even look that bad. Me an the Cap’ll save ya some fun if’n it comes ta that. Stay frosty, puhn yoh. I’ll bring ya back a hat er somethin’.”
Wyatt’s voice crackled over the comm. system as Dash strolled out of the infirmary and towards the primary hold. He listened intently to the Cap’s words as he fine tuned his orders, nodding faintly as he made mental notes as to what was expected… Yup… sounds like a fine drill ta me…Still wish the Kid was in a better state…
“We ain’t outta the fire yet, folks,” the Cap was saying as Sam stepped into the bay, “So let’s not get Soh Ya Feh Tian.”
Turning from the console Wyatt caught Sam as he approached, strapped and ready.
“Well, let’s go G’en Ho Tze Bi Dio se,” he said.
Dash grinned and nodded; “Jah Yoh, Cap.”
((OOC: Sam’ll follow Wyatt’s lead, making sure to stay a couple of steps back and to Wyatt’s left to allow clear fields of fire if things get hinky. ))
Posted on 2007-04-09 at 16:25:17.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Just in case...
...Al beats me to posting today, Sam will be wearing his ballistic mesh, carrying his Avenger, both derringers, a shot gun and a couple of flashbangs, please.
"Get off th' ruttin' ship inna middle o' th' gorram Black wit' nuttin' but m'damn skivvies on? I don' ruttin' think so, puhn yoh!"
From the sounds o' things, though, ol' Dash may just have some complications with the Waltons of Maria Celestia mountain, though... "They strike you as jus' a might innocent fer killin' purposes or is it jus' me?"
Posted on 2007-04-09 at 11:51:34.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Back-history
Subject: Kora comes aboard.
((What follows is the backhistory of how Rocinante got her mechanic. Not sure if there's more of this or not, but these are the bits and pieces that Brom and Lysk wrote up some time ago...))
“Ta Ma Duh!” Wyatt placed his head on the reg vent and closed his eyes. His hands were covered in grease, his face smudged with the same. He’d removed his hat hours ago and his sleeves were rolled right up to his elbows. He held a wrench in his right hand, though loosely, and the expression on his face was tired frustration.
“Didn’t work, huh?” Sam’s voice came from across the engine room where he was working on repairing a seized power coupling. “Ain’t havin’ much luck myself.”
“We got a cargo hold full of medicals an’ can’t even lift off the gorram pad, Sam!” Wyatt dropped the wrench in the sparsely populated toolbox at his feet and picked up an already soiled towel. “Oil’s burnin’ an’ it’s as apparen’ t’ me as the sun risin’ o’er a bluff that the two o’ us ain’t gonna git the job done.”
“Hey now!” Sam’s face suddenly appeared over the top of the engine, smudged with grease the same as Wyatt’s. “I’m jus’ gettin’ started. Give me another… oh, three, four weeks, an’ I’ll have this bird flyin’ again.”
Wyatt stared in bland amusement at the pilot and then shook his head. “I’m gonna go see if I can’t find a ruttin’ mechanic.”
“Don’t have much dough.”
“Thanks fer the reminder.” Wyatt left Sam to clean up in the room walking with a purpose to his quarters where he spent a couple of minutes cleaning up the best he could, strapping iron, and retrieving his hat and coat before leaving Rocinante in Sam’s capable hands.
Beylix was a teaming port of rejects and rimmers as usual, but that didn’t bother Wyatt none. He and Sam had dropped off a rather hot bunch of sim chips for recreational purposes and had almost immediately picked up a rather hot bunch of medicines for transport to Greenleaf where a strange fever had broken out. Wyatt reviewed the problems that had arisen since then with a scowl on his face that kept people out of his way.
First, the port had fined them for being expired on the cortex, then the regulator vent had fallen off and though Wyatt had tried to jimmy a temporary fix, it wasn’t working. That didn’t end the trouble though. As Wyatt always said, things came in threes and when Sam had gone to the trouble of looking through the spare parts trying to find something that would help in the repairs he’d discovered that the power coupling had seized up. They just weren’t qualified to handle those kinds of repairs and due to the fine, didn’t have enough to pay for a mechanic to fix them, nor the time to allow it. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he had to do something or Rocinante would just sit there and they’d lose their cargo.
There was one mechanic on Beylix that Wyatt knew and it was to his shop that the captain went. Quartermaster worked out of a huge hanger nearly rusted clean through with skylight windows that looked as though they’d been painted by grime. Rocinante had been in that hanger on a couple of occasions, and every time it happened Wyatt swore to Sam that the whole hanger was about to fall in on them. Sung wasn’t normally claustrophobic, but every time he entered the hanger he suddenly felt like the room was shrinking around him.
“Quartermaster?” Wyatt asked as he stepped through the door to a dirty-faced fellow with his arms to the elbows in engine parts. The man nodded past the relic of a ship that Wyatt recognized as Quartermaster’s pet project. He called it a bigger, better ship, but Wyatt seriously doubted it would do anything more than make a lot of smoke. Making his way around the thrusters, Wyatt immediately spotted the bulky fellow.
Quartermaster wore brown coveralls that were constantly covered in grease and oil, welding goggles about his forehead, and seemed to always be sweating. He was rotund and jovial, and some of his statements made Wyatt think that he had a sieve for a brainpan. Still, he was reliable…when you had the credits.
“Wyatt Sung! One of my favorite customers. How’s Rocinante?” Quartermaster’s face lit up and Wyatt inwardly cringed at the yellow, coffee stained teeth, but outwardly returned the welcome.
“Ni how Quartermaster,” Wyatt pretended cheerfulness. “Well, that’s exactly why I’m here. Rocinante ain’t flyin’ an’ I’ve got a pressin’ need t’ git her on the move.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Reg vent fell off an’ the power couplin’ seized.”
“Sui! Wyatt! What’re ya doin’ t’ her? Rocinante’s a firefly, man. She should be flyin’ with one thruster burned an’ a hole the size o’ Beylix in her hull.” Quartermaster laughed at his own ridiculous theory. “That ain’t no cheap fix, neither.”
“Say it ain’t so, Quartermaster.” Wyatt gave a pathetic shake of his head and spread his hands wide. “I’m flat broke. Need this run t’ git back on my feet.”
“Then make the run without Rocinante.” Quartermaster guffawed at the image that presented to him, Wyatt swimming through space holding his breath, a cargo net of crates being dragged behind him. “Yer an athletic bloke.”
“Jus’ a man, Quartermaster, an’ like everyone else I’ll freeze up in the black an’ call in dead.” Exacerbated, Wyatt sighed. “So if’n yer no’ gonna help, then point me t’ someone who can.”
“Ain’t no one gonna help when there ain’t no pay in it, Wyatt. Unless…”
“Yeah?”
“Unless yer willin’ t’ take on some extra hands, permanent like.” Quartermaster had a twinkle in his eye as he said it that caused Wyatt to pause. Still, like it or not, he was in bad and a mechanic was the only thing that could pull their butts out of the fire right then.
“Why not?” Wyatt feigned indifference, though numbers were running through his head already refiguring his income based on another salary. “He any good?”
For some reason this elicited another loud burst of laughter from Quartermaster. Wyatt stood by with a dour look on his face while the other man calmed down enough to answer, “I’ll let you decide if he’s any good. C’mon.”
“You’d be a Lio Coh Jwei Ji Neong Hur Ho Deh Yung Duh Buhn Jab J’wohn if’n ya turn this one away, Wyatt. A good, reliable mechanic an’ damn fine in a fight too.” Quartermaster was leading him out the back of the main hanger, through a door that didn’t close all the way, to a side hanger where a Mirage class ship stood on repair rails with a small crew of mechanics floating about it doing various pieces of work.
“Sounds like yer right, Q.” Wyatt scanned the lot of the mechanics, looking over each of the men as they welded, wrenched, and generally grease-monkeyed, but Quartermaster didn’t stop there. Instead, he led Wyatt through the bay to another door that took them out to a dirt yard filled with various, near rusted ship parts. Quartermaster continued through the maze of junk metal until Wyatt could make out the ringing sound of metal on metal like an old smithy preparing horseshoes. Rounding the hull of a cracked and ruined Montreal, Wyatt spotted a woman wearing a sleeveless khaki T and khaki coveralls rolled to her waist and tied off. She had her back turned to them and was busy hammering a tempered piece of steel against a large engine block.
“Wyatt Sung,” Quartermaster yelled so he could be heard above the ringing; which stopped as soon as the voice was heard. Wyatt watched as the woman turned around and raised his eyebrows. She was a looker even with the grime covering her face that came with the job. “Meet Kora Mei Ling, the mechanic I was tellin’ ya about.”
“No offense, Q, but I got an’ all boys boat right now—“
“I said, she’s good in a fight.”
That’s when Wyatt noticed the tattoo on Kora’s bicep. A number of emotions swelled at the sight of it, for he knew it immediately. He’d transported more than a few units bearing that tattoo across enemy lines to perform acts of war that most thought criminal. He knew well the dangers a person with that marking presented and for a moment, Wyatt felt a strong urge to turn on his boot heel and make his way out of that scrapyard, but then he caught the look in her eye. Kora seemed to be calculating, sizing him up and just like in the wild when two animals face off, to turn away then would have been disastrous.
“All right,” Wyatt shifted his hat so that it rode low on his brow. “Kora is it? All right, Kora. Got me a firefly–”
“Good ship Kora,” Quartermaster interrupted cheerfully. “You’ve seen her in her before: Rocinante?”
Wyatt glanced at Quartermaster for a brief second before turning his gaze back to the Asian beauty. “Rocinante’s right. Needs a mechanic. No matter the love me and my present crew gives her, she eventually breaks down t’ the poin’ where as we can’t fix ‘er. We’ll do it straight, make ya a salaried member o’ the crew. Ten credits a month plus room an’ board. But I’m in a pressin’ hurry an’ there’s a couple o’ shoes that need fittin’ in the engine room quick-like so I can’t let ya think it over. Guess what I’m sayin’ is that ya gotsta Yo Hua Kwai Suo if’n ya want the spot.”
(Carry on, Lyskhala)...
__________________________________________________
Kora turned when she heard Q's booming voice. The Quartermaster was one of very few people she trusted explicitly so when he made his way back to the out lot with a stranger, she knew it was either a business opportunity or a dispute that needed to be settled with a customer.
Kora knew the corpulent man from her Black Ops days in the war. They had seen a lot of action and had done things under orders that would leave them with bad memories for the rest of their lives and as is the way of such traumatic events had bonded them in a way not many people outside the military could understand. When the order came to "stand down", their unit scattered to the wind as did countless others. A few made their way home to family, some who had no family wandered into the Black in hopes of finding jobs that suited their 'qualifications". Some had stayed in touch, others…well, they had lost touch.
After the war, Q, being a mechanic by trade, set up shop as a junkyard dealer on Beylix employing a few locals to work as full time mechanics. As it turned out, a good piece of business came from repairing and "upgrading" derelict ships that no one else would consider working because of their dilapidated condition or because they didn't want their fingerprints all over an illegal improvement. Q figured he had seen the worst part of life already and wasn't too intimidated by what the Alliance might do if they caught him dealin' with those on the outside track of the law.
Kora wasn't one of his employees. As a favor to a comrade in arms, he allowed her to use his facilities to work her own business projects that she gleaned from those who couldn't afford Q's services. She barely made enough to survive even on this dust ball of a planet but if there was one thing in her life she did well, it was surviving.
Turning her focus to the stranger she eyed him suspiciously. He wasn't a local and not a customer of hers…she would have remembered him. He was clean and sober…not many on this rock could lay claim to that distinction. The stranger raised his eyebrows when she turned as if surprised to see a woman in grease up to her elbows and wielding a ball peen hammer. His reaction didn't phase her, she had been underestimated enough in her life to expect that reaction, especially from men.
She heard him say "No offense, Q, but I got an' all boys boat right now—"
She chuckled silently and cocked her head slightly to the side, giving the stranger a thorough once over through squinted jade eyes. He was tall and slender and wore a wide brimmed hat that shaded his eyes and a well worn brown duster she immediately identified as Browncoat issue.
"I said, she's good in a fight." She heard Q reply as if trying to sell the stranger on her. Kora turned her gaze briefly to the large man, concentrating as much disdain as she could muster in his direction. Once she was sure he had noticed, she turned her focus back to the stranger who had apparently noticed the tattoo, shiny with sweat, on her arm. She could sense his uneasiness. Her scrutinizing gaze trailed down his lanky body stopping briefly at the leather strap tied securely around his thigh then back up to the shaded eyes hiding beneath the hat.
"Well" she thought, "he ain't nervous enough to leave…must be in dire need of somethin'" she reasoned silently.
"All right," Wyatt shifted his hat so that it rode low on his brow. "Kora is it? All right, Kora. Got me a firefly—"
"Good ship Kora," Quartermaster interrupted cheerfully. "You've seen her in her before: Rocinante?"
Wyatt glanced at Quartermaster for a brief second before turning his gaze back to the Asian beauty. "Rocinante's right. Needs a mechanic. No matter the love me and my present crew gives her, she eventually breaks down t' the poin' where as we can't fix 'er. We'll do it straight, make ya a salaried member o' the crew. Ten credits a month plus room an' board. But I'm in a pressin' hurry an' there's a couple o' shoes that need fittin' in the engine room quick-like so I can't let ya think it over. Guess what I'm sayin' is that ya gotsta Yo Hua Kwai Suo if'n ya want the spot."
Kora continued to stare at the stranger as she wiped her greasy hands on a rag she pulled from her back pocket. Was he offering her a job? A real job? Skeptical, she slowly walked over to the stranger trying to get a look at his eyes. She could always tell if a person was on the up and up by their eyes…even those she didn't know. She stopped a few inches from him and looked beneath the brim of the hat. He was handsome in a rugged way. He had a dark, intense gaze that didn't waver as she stopped to peer up at him and she guessed by the shape of his eyes he had some Asian blood mixed up in him. Immediately she got a sense of trust.
Quickly looking at Q, he answered her unspoken questions with a wink and a crooked grin.
Returning her gaze to the stranger, she said with a whisper of a smile "Well, what d'ya know Q…I'm gettin' asked ta dance." The Quartermaster chuckled slightly at her analogy and sighed to dispel the tension that had gripped his gut. He had not been sure Kora would take kindly to the stranger or his offer as she was as suspicious as they come, but he had taken the chance. He had always been very protective of her. She was like a daughter to him and he would never have intentionally put her in harm's way. He knew eventually he wouldn't be around to "look after her" and when he heard Wyatt's dilemma, he figured this was the opportunity to see that she had a place to be…a place to call home. He knew the decision was hers to make and should she choose to go, he would miss her terribly, but it was a better life than wastin' away on this rock. He hoped his reassuring gestures would help her make the right choice.
After a few seconds of deliberation, she spoke directly to the stranger. "Well, Wyatt Sung, seein how I ain't got nuthin' holdin' me here but gravity, I reckon I'll take you up on that offer" Offering her still somewhat dirty hand as a gesture of agreement, she smiled sheepishly…"Rocinante…wasn't that a horse?"
The captain raised his eyebrows at her bravado. He knew from experience that those who bore the tattoo had a right to bear bravado; still, it seemed strange coming from that small, engaging frame.
“Sure,” Wyatt said, though he didn’t really know. It made sense to the ex-rancher after all, horses were the main form of transportation. Why not the firefly? Wyatt held his hands out as though he were searching for something to say, then dropped them to his thighs with a slapping sound. “So… ya got gear t’ fetch?”
Posted on 2007-04-08 at 16:25:14.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Pictures and character sheets
Good idea, Lady Vanadia! Consider it done. 
Might have to re-size a couple and I know, after seeing Brom's rendering of the crew, that I have some adjustments to make to Wyatt's pic, but the crew pics as they stand right now have been added to the sheets. 
Also, since I was made privy to the initial exchanges between Brom and Lysk re: how Kora joined the crew, I posted what I had of that collab in the backhistory thread... I oughta write up Sam's reaction to having an ex-browncoat "spook" show up on Rocinante... 
Posted on 2007-04-08 at 16:21:25.
Edited on 2007-04-08 at 16:28:02 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Mondo Shiny!
Gonna post a sheet for Roc, too? Don' wanna leave the brightest star in the 'Verse out, do we?
*pats the console* I know, baby... He din't mean ta fergit ya... 
By the by, Al... I can probably dig up Dash's bio and send it your way if ya need it.
Posted on 2007-04-06 at 19:26:40.
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Topic: Temple of the Shoda
Subject: The Elements as a Guide for Learning Self-Defense
The Godai elements, as codes for action in a self-protection situation, serve as a guide for the student, not in learning set techniques or ts’stkata as such, but in relating to their emotional moods and responses, and their influence over the student’s mental and physical options.
It must be remembered that, as human beings we have a ’natural’ way of learning effectively and efficiently. A physical, hands-on approach, coupled and followed by theory leads to an emotional feeling about that which we have learned. This feeling could be good (we like it), bad (we dislike it) or neutral (we neither like it or dislike it.) Unfortunately, we deal with stress (read: fights) in just the opposite way.
First we experience an emotional response about the situation, encounter, environment, etc. Based on whether we are attracted or repelled, etc., we form a mental strategy based on what we know and what we think we can do, and finally we go into action. Though taking several sentences to describe, the actual impulse to response time takes only a fraction of a second.
Beginning students, more often than not, do not understand the defensive strategies implied in the techniques being learned, let alone have an awareness of their emotional state at any given point. The Godai then, is a model that can be used as an expedient - as an example of the Enlightened trait known as "skillful means" - to help explain the modes in which we operate, their prompters, and the possibilities available based on what the body is, and is not, capable of when under the influence of each emotional state.
Posted on 2007-04-06 at 16:17:39.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Oh goody...
...it's almost time to get shot!
We'll do our best, Big Al. 
Posted on 2007-04-06 at 16:15:28.
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Topic: Temple of the Shoda
Subject: Underlying concepts.
“No way as way. No limitation as limitation.” – Bruce Lee
As I have mentioned, M'kyo Jabala is the culmination of my own study of several martial arts styles/systems, various religions/philosophies, and a "weird connection to the Universe" (e.g. the study of the energies that flow through, between, and around us). To that end, a lot of things that you'll find here, I'm sure, will sound familiar to some of you and call to mind things you've heard before. So, just so there is an understanding, here, I do not claim to have created all of the concepts and ideas discussed in these texts. My only claim to any of it is that I have attempted to piece it all together, present it to you, and allow you to take from it what you will. As the late, great Bruce Lee was so fond of reminding his own students; "Absorb what is useful..."
All of that said, one of the primary systems that I've based the M'kyo Jabala concept upon is derived from the Godai (or "Five Great Elemental Manifestations) - a system, by the way, which , itself, is based upon and leads up to the rokku-dai ("Six Great Elements") as used in esoteric Buddhist study.
The elements of the Godai are often, quite erroneously, confused with the elements that make up the Periodic Table used in the study of chemistry in Western science. In fact, the Godai elements are not meant to be used in such a detailed and destructive way as the ones of Western science. “Things” are not broken down so far that they become indistinguishable from their real form. The 5-Element code is actually a means of cataloging and grouping like concepts, aspects, strategies, energies, etc. In fact, the Western system can actually be reorganized and classified using the Godai system.
The elemental codes, in ascending order are...
- ma’at ..."earth"...
- ushnu ..."water"...
- ts’stka ..."fire"...
- r’rshi ..."wind", and...
- a’sche the "void"
The Elements as Classifications of "Groups"
The five elements of the Godai, their symbolic representation, their appearance in the human being, and their use, in the teaching of the shoda’s arts are:
Ma’at “Earth” — represents the firm, hard objects that appear in existence. Rocks are probably the best symbol of the earth element in nature in that they are incapable of change, movement or growth, without the help of the other elements.
In the human being, the “earth” element shows up in the body as the bones, muscles, and other tissues. In the mind, it is confidence; and emotionally it is a desire to have things remain as they are; a resistance to change. When under the influence of this ma’at or earth mode or ‘mood,’ we are aware of our own physicality and sureness of action.
As a means of self-protection, which is based, as are all of the strategies of the shoda’s art of operating with natural laws, on the student’s emotional level or mood when the attack starts. "Earth," as a code for Enlightened Self-Defense action, represents our desire to hold our ground and ‘crush’ the assailant’s attack with our strength. We are calm and unbothered by their threats and we firmly resolve to stop them in their tracks.
Ushnu “Water” — represents elements in a ‘flowing’ or adaptable state. Aside from the common identification with natural water sources, plants are a good example of the “water” element in that they are, while incapable of movement, capable of adapting to their environment (i.e. turning their leaves toward the direct sun, growing their root systems in the direction of the most nutrient rich soil, etc.)
In our bodies, the ‘water’ element represents the blood and other fluids necessary for life. Mentally, this code represents the ability to adapt to and change our strategy, or way of doing things, if change is needed and what we are currently doing is not working. At our core, it is our emotionalism and ability to ‘go with the flow.’
In the self-protection strategies of the shoda’s armed and unarmed combat arts, the ‘water’ element identifies both our defensive adaptation to the enemy’s attack and our ability to ‘flow’ with their actions. The feeling of being overwhelmed by their force or technique causes us to want to back up and create more space and time between ourselves and our assailant, as we attempt to cover and protect our targets from their attacking limbs.
Ts’stka “Fire” — as a code, this symbol represents those elements in a combustible, or energy-releasing state. It also symbolizes force and direction. Animals are a good example of the ‘fire’ element in that they are capable of movement and direction, though limited by primitive ‘programming’ or instinct.
In our bodies, this element is represented by our metabolism and body heat. Mentally, it is our directness, commitment and desire to be better than we are. Internally, from our heart come the qualities of will or intention, motivation and competitiveness as well as an outgoing or domineering spirit.
As a defensive strategy, ‘fire’ represents our committed spirit directed against our opponent as we take the fight to them. In reality, there is no such thing as a ‘fire’ technique per se — just as there are no water, earth, etc. techniques. There is only our energy level or emotional mood that causes us to move-in against the attacker.
R’rshi “Wind” — is the symbolic representation for elements in a gaseous state. Freedom-of-movement and an expanding nature are the keys here. Again, apart from the naturally identifiable ‘things’ alluded to by it, the ‘wind’ element is best symbolized by human beings. Human beings, in their lower or most common states of development, are capable of movement, direction and have intellect; the trait necessary for development, growth and overcoming the limiting tendencies of programming and the primitive instinct from our ‘animal’ nature.
In our body, the ‘wind’ element is our respiration and the processing of oxygen and other gasses between cells. Mentally, it is our intellectual capabilities and our ability to be ‘open-minded.’ Emotionally, we are carefree and not influenced by stress.
As a basis for self-defense, this element shows in our desire to evade, and stay just beyond, his reach. We naturally want to avoid any conflicts or, at least, a direct confrontation. Our strategy is reflected in our turning and evasive movements that allow us to flank him and smother his assault attempt if necessary.
A’sche The “Void” — is the code for the sub-atomic or ‘creative’ foundation of all that is. Actually, the term “void” is probably a bad translation when compared to the definition of what this element represents. The English language word “de-void,” as in the absence of any pre-determined shape or character, is much closer to defining the nature of this element.
Human beings in a higher conscious state are the representatives of this element, just as the sub-atomic material that forms the atoms that group into the molecules that form all other material things in the universe are the base example from nature.
In our bodies, the ‘void’ element is our ability to think and communicate with others. Mentally and emotionally it represents our creative nature, as well as our personal means of self-expression as we identify with and operate in the world around us.
As a self-protection method, the ‘void’ represents several tactics. They are:
- Our communicating with the attacker in an attempt to diffuse the situation before it becomes physical.
- The creative and spontaneous flow between the lower elements as we adapt to and alter our techniques as our emotional state changes from moment to moment. We literally ‘make-up’ the technique as we go.
- Our ability to ‘let go’ of any pre-set techniques or mental chatter about “what we will do if he...,” and clear our mind so that we can see and pick up the sense-impressions and feelings that will tell us what he is doing or preparing to do to us.
- The application of the strategy of altering the attacker’s perception of truth and falsehood. Our ability to make the attacker think we are doing one thing when in fact we are doing the opposite is key here.
Posted on 2007-04-06 at 14:38:18.
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Topic: Temple of the Shoda
Subject: Summarizing the Concept of "Free" combat Arts
M’kyo Jabala, unlike many other “standard” combat arts, does not have a specific set of rules or techniques to establish a distinct method. Instead, it utilizes all ways and means to serve its end; thereby making it “free”. As a combat or martial arts form it possesses everything, while in itself it possesses nothing. Rather than restricting practitioners to a strict, clearly defined set of rules or techniques – and thereby limiting the natural progression of the individual – M’kyo Jabala encourages the practitioner to explore a broader scope of open-ended techniques and incorporate or adapt those that suit them best into a personalized style, unique to that particular individual. In the practical application of combat arts this approach is essential to success, for without the constraints of “choreographed” movements, the practitioner is free to spontaneously interpret and/or adapt to any given situation without being constrained to specific, indoctrinated formulae which may result in an over-thinking of the situation.
More of this to come... was reading over it and realized that I needed to edit some things.
P.S. Yeah... we're just one bing happy family 'round yonder, ain't we?
Posted on 2007-04-06 at 13:08:26.
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Topic: Temple of the Shoda
Subject: M'kyo Jabala: Practices and Precepts of the Combat Arts
Forward
For as long as there has been life there has been conflict – male and female, dark and light, predator and prey, war and peace – this is the way of the universe and thus, the way of the Balance. As such, conflict becomes harmony and, in turn, harmony regresses to conflict. When “life” first became self-aware – separating itself from the One Universal Consciousness – it immediately began to evolve, altering itself to provide for the things that it took for granted when it was held, tightly guarded, in the heart of the Balance. The need for sustenance, of course, was of utmost importance to this new, self-sufficient state of being; therefore, it began to hunt. However, in order for the hunter to be, so must there also be the hunted, and to this end – for conflict to become harmony – the hunted, like the hunter, also becomes self-aware and begins to alter it’s being in order to better protect itself from that which hunts it – defense mechanisms, as it were. So the Circle has continued from the beginning of what is known as Time and so it will continue until Time also returns to its beginning.
For countless ages, the hunter and the hunted, although possessed of free-will separate from the Universal, were still bound to and, in a way, dependant upon it for guidance in the development and application of attack and defense – in essence, the “spirit” took over from the mind to guide the body without thought.
Instinct.
Nature.
Balance.
As the ages progressed, so too did “life” continue to progress. Prey, out of need for continued survival, perpetuated its evolution to the point that it became a predator in its own right. Thus, driven by a similar need, that which was the predator progressed to a point where it was necessary to become more than what it was, being led farther away from the subconscious guidance of the Universe and closer to true “independent thought.” Consequently, independent thought became doctrine, doctrine then became law, and law thereby became widely accepted as “the way.” It is here, my brothers and sisters, that “life” began to lose true cognizance of its intended connection to the Balance; for when “the way” becomes accepted by the many only because it has proven effective in the hands of the few, we find that the predator can only prey upon itself.
When the Ancients became the predominant children of the Balance, they had traveled the Circle and Line to such an extent that a Triad was created in their perception of what had been and what is – Heavens above, Earth below, and Life in between. Within the bounds of this Triad, the Circle and the Line were reinterpreted and restructured again and again in a vain attempt to validate and secure their treasured “place”, despite the forces of Heaven and Earth that had guaranteed the physicality of that honor to begin with.
It was from this perpetual redefinition and – whether acknowledged or not – in accordance with the natural progression of things, the Ancients segmented their already skewed perceptions and, in essence, began to prey upon themselves. Thereby, a presumed need for martial or combat arts arose from the gifts originally bestowed upon them by that which is all. All of this, of course, continued to evolve throughout the Ages of the Ancients and, since one small group was able to prove that their methods effective while yet another group provided similar proof of the effectiveness of their own techniques, “schools” of martial arts soon became “The Way.” These schools, enrapt by the dogma of their differing interpretations of “The Way”, created what became strict forms within which were confined the rules of combat.
“Rules of Combat.” A conflict in terminology, my brothers and sisters; for, in a true combat situation there are no rules and “The Way”, as defined by an individual school of thought, becomes meaningless. Only that which is truly useful to one’s nature can be effectively applied and utilized in the true arena of combat and, as such, you cannot find your answers anywhere else but within yourselves. In the texts that follow, we will examine how and why this is so, and hopefully, return the “combat arts” to their beginnings where they belong and are best applied.
Ch’dau
Shidoshi Sempai
The Shodan Temple at Lunamere, Bellamoon
Posted on 2007-04-05 at 15:17:03.
Edited on 2007-04-05 at 15:29:06 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Temple of the Shoda
Subject: Temple of the Shoda
Okay, so I was prowling around last night and happened to come upon a gods-awful stack of notes, sketches, writings, etc, that I've put together over the years in which I've been developing my own martial arts system (or, rather, "my own approach" to martial arts as not only a system of self-defense but also as a guideline to a way of life). Anyway, I decided, after reading over the first few pages of what I've thus far called "The M'kyo Jabala Handbook," that posting bits of it here might prove to be interesting one way or another.
Now, while I've said that these writings were done with the development of M'kyo Jabala in mind, they also tend to lean towards a "fantasy narrative" in parts (I learned when I started instructing my children that when you can immerse lessons in a story that fascinates them, the lessons are absorbed more readily... plus it's fun to imagine concepts that you're teaching to others as being the foundation of an entire priesthood in some alternate reality, y'know?).
Anyhoo... I won't try to explain any further, I'll just let you read and comment, question, or criticize as you will. On we go...
*bows* A'sche I'jota Ka'to
Posted on 2007-04-05 at 15:15:38.
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Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: ^v^
^ Rrama Llama Ding-Dong
< Bomp-shoo-bomp-shoo-bomp
V Scooby Dooby Doo
Posted on 2007-04-04 at 15:20:31.
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Topic: DND Trivia Game
Subject: Oooo...sneaky, sneaky...
Aren't trick questions against the constitutions or something?
Posted on 2007-04-04 at 15:16:50.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I know, I know...
*winks at Wyatt*
But damn if it ain't fun ta get gussied up an' play pretend! Amn't that right, puhn yoh?
Posted on 2007-04-04 at 01:46:39.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Homing beacon?!
Gun! I ruttin' knew it!
Here kitty, kitty, kitty... I got a nice pro-paste mousey for ya! *cocks pistol*
Posted on 2007-04-04 at 01:05:02.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: It was...
...but it's been creepin' around in the dark an' dirty parts of the ship for the past three days so the brown parts turned black!
Posted on 2007-04-03 at 18:54:56.
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Topic: Question and Answers Game
Subject: ?
So, Lysk, what are your plans for after work?
__________________________________________________________
I like cheese but this is rediculous!
Posted on 2007-04-03 at 18:50:52.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Reporting and offering more assistance...
“Attack’d, sure we be,” Char had answered, “Don’ know dat i' be some’tin’ I can ‘xplain.” The ranger’s actions at that point led Jal to believe, for some reason, that the party had been attacked by Arien himself, though, and that little bit of information he found quite disconcerting, especially in light of the magical energy he had felt while in his ghostly form. By way of explanations (and by his own admition of not being sure how to reason it out), though, Char had very little else to offer. In fact, he seemed more concerned with Jal’s report on what might be on the other side of the door. After speaking with Kilgrim in regards to Arien’s current state, the man asked; “…Jal, wha’ didja see on da udder side?”
The spellbinder blinked… he had been pondering over what he could recall about possession and any spells or creatures of arcane or extra-planar nature he might have known that could do such things and wasn’t quite prepared to answer. “I…” he spluttered, suddenly finding himself trying to piece the words together he would need to explain everything he’d seen an experienced, “I…”
It was then, much to Jal’s surprise, that Dapple spoke up to offer a more detailed account of what had transpired in his absence. When the lad actually spoke to him, Jal arced a curious brow…Is this, perhaps, a bit of trust, then? Not what I would have expected given what I’ve learned of you thus far, Dapple Moon…… but listened intently to what the rogue had to say.
“We were waiting for you when Arien didn't seem himself,” Dapple explained in a low voice, watching Kilgim and Arien out of the corner of her eye. “He seemed to stagger, and when he recovered, it was like he was a woman ... a very odd one. For some reason, he moved to attack me, and well, never piss off a pseudodragon.
Sunset picks up stuff from people, and I got the impression of a green scaled woman when Sunset was glaring at Arien,” Dapple shivered and his voice dropped lower. “We had some odd things happen with "possessions" and such in our last job for the Iron League, and it did not end well. I'd give a year's take to Wee Jas to avoid that ever happening again!” He paused a moment, his gaze haunted, then he shook it off, bringing cold grey eyes up to look determinedly into Jal's.
Jal was smiling faintly and nodded in affirmation of the pseudodragon’s capabilities. The smile wasn’t by any means a mirthful one, though. From what he’d just heard and from the snippets of knowledge that he had where possessions and dominate person spells were concerned, the happenings in this room had given the party away at best and, at worst, had possibly sealed their fates already. “We should prepare for the worst, then,” the spellbinder offered, “unless whatever it was that borrowed Sir Thedell was rendered impotent by Sunset’s attack, it would be foolish to think that our presence here has been reported to someone…or something…”
"Tell me about the lay of it beyond the door,” Dapple requested, “and I'll set up watch out there. We can't all sit here like pigs in a poke waiting the butcher.”
“Oh,” Jal nodded, suddenly remembering that he, indeed, was the only one who knew what lay beyond the doorway, “of course…” For the benefit of Dapple and the others who might’ve been more concerned with the physical layout of the rooms and corridors beyond the door, Jal started with a detailed description of everything he had seen, recalling approximate dimesions and precise directional placements, and the fact that he had seen nothing of traps or any posted guards; “After what has transpired here, though, I wouldn’t guess that guards or worse aren’t being dispatched.”
“More curious than what there was to see, though,” Jal continued almost hesitatntly, “was what there was to be felt. From the moment my spell took hold and I took on the form of a wraith, I felt an almost irresistible pull… like something calling me to the upper levels of the tower. Consciously, I had no desire to answer that summons, but I feel that, had I been closer to the source, I may not have been able to resist…”
((OOC: Jal will proceed from here, relating the “not so physical happenings” that had occurred beyond the door, including encountering Wynter and the other two spirits (who he will admit he left in the Operating Room, thinking it better that they suffer where they are for the time rather than being released to answer that summons)… He will also offer to accompany Dapple into the corridor and offer up any magic that may be useful… Invisibility for the rogue, webbing the stairway door, lobbing fireballs at anything that may come down them, etc… At the moment, he doesn’t think there is anything he can do to help Arien (the possessing spirit is already gone, thus a dispel magic casting would be wasteful… all that can be done now is to ensure his safety until he comes around… etc))
Posted on 2007-04-03 at 17:47:36.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Thanks, Van...
...been waiting for a flying post for a while, actually, and was oh so glad that the first one was thru the tail of a comet... What fun!
Glad you enjoyed the ride.
Posted on 2007-04-03 at 15:31:26.
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Topic: Getting to know you
Subject: Sound...
...I love to hear the rain on a tin-roof. Ahhhhhhh!
Babies laughing is a great one, too.
Posted on 2007-04-03 at 13:54:37.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Hi-yo, Rocinante!
“I’ve got your six, Dash. Burn hard, then cut in front of the Huen Dahn and see how he likes the bump and grind of Roc’s blast. I don’t much care if you ride that tail for nigh on to an hour so long as they get the worst of it.”
An almost mischievous grin spread across Dash’s lips, then, and when Wyatt shunted some of the peripherals to the co-pilot’s seat, the pilot nodded; “Roger that, Cap…
…C’mon, baby,” he whispered to Rocinante as he jammed the throttle forward, “let’s fahn dahn!” Dash’s eyes panned across the console once and then lifted to peer through the viewports and lock in that ruttin’ Griffin… he felt himself become one with the ship at that point. The ice vapor and vacuum that swept over Roc’s hull swept over him, every movement of his body was synced with a movement made by the beloved Firefly that he’d called home for this past year, and, at this moment, Dash’s life was about nothing else than catching Maria Celestia and showing her what sailin’ the black was all about.
Just as Rocinante was beginning to close the gap, though, the wong ba duhn at the Griffin’s helm carved a wake through the comet’s tail and sent an avalanche of ice and rock hurtling towards them. Aside from a mumbled curse and an almost aggravated sigh, though, Sam didn’t panic. Instead, feeling Roc’s ‘instinctive reaction,’ he followed through with the will of the ship, nosing steeply down and rolling through the helter-skelter chunks of space debris, skillfully avoiding the worst of Maria Celestia’s wake-storm. Dash did wince and curse each time a chunk of debris clanged off of the ship, though, following up each exclamation with “…Ow! Sorry, Kora…”
Guiding Rocinante easily out of the white-knuckle barrel-roll, Dash flicked a glance at Wyatt, offering a sheepish grin and a faint shrug… “Them scratches should jus’ buff right out, puhn yoh,” he said before turning his eyes back to the debris field and the aft end of Maria Celestia… “An’ will ya looky here, they done did us a favor an’ pointed me right at a pipe!
Got me an open lane, mei mei,” he said after cuing the mic, “Dump whatever ya can inta th’ flow an’ let’s put these frog-humpers in our wake!”
It doesn’t take long for Kora to work her magic and, it seemed, the power he’d called for was at his fingertips even before the last word of his request disappeared from the air; “Giddyap, Roc!” The firefly zooms forward, quickly closing the gap between the two racing transports, and Dash rolls Roc over on her back above Celestia as they catch up… He’s not sure if the other pilot can se him or not but, just in case, he blows the other wheelman a kiss and quickly follows up that action by flipping the bird for good measure before completing the roll and placing Roc on the port side of the Griffin. For a moment, the two spaceships hurtle towards the comet side by side, bobbing and weaving to avoid the chunks of ice and stone that continually break off from the Angel Hair comet. As they enter a denser, more dangerous section of the comet’s tail, though, Dash finds the extra help he needs in the form of an enormous chunk of ice. He holds course along side the Griffin until the last possible instant, zigging Rocinante to port and giving Maria Celestia no other option but to zag the other direction… right into the path of that tumbling ice cube. “Wu du bu juhn fu,” Dash laughed as the impact sent the Griffin veering off course and secured the lead for Rocinante, “Eat that, ya claim-jumpin’ chai neow!
A’ight, mei mei,” he called out, signaling to the mechanic that the power shunt could be capped, “The kiddies’re in th’ dust…” He had expected the speed to fall off a bit in response but what he hadn’t been prepared for was the sudden loss of control and the chaos that erupted from the back of the ship. He traded concerned glances with Wyatt when the Kid’s scream of pain and the frantic call for the Doc echoed up the foredeck but didn’t have time to comment.
“Juh shi suh mo go dohng shee?! No, no, no, baby,” he grimaced, almost lifting himself out of the seat as he hauled on the yoke as he fought to keep Rocinante from heaving over and getting pummeled, “Stay wit’ me, bao bei…stay wit’ me. C’mon!”
Out of the corner of his eye he spots the Maria Celestia, apparently recovered from her ten-second grapple with the space-berg and gaining on them a little too quickly. “Gorramit, Kora,” he hollered, still wrestling with the controls and not bothering with the mic, “ ‘less ya wanna take that ride agin, darlin’, I could use some tian ling ling, di ling ling right about now…”
Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for Kora to make the repairs (what ever had gone wrong stunk to high heaven, though, the smell of it reaching even Sam’s nose) and, before the Griffin could overtake them, Dash had the controls back. “Tha’s better,” he grinned at Wyatt, “sometimes I jus’ wanna plant a big, wet one right on that li’l lady’s a…
Son-of-a…” Dash smirked, catching sight of the Griffin… The job-jacker was doing it’s best to pull up and snatch the lead again… “No ya don’t, puhn yoh,” he chuckled as he wrenched the yoke and, using the Celestia’s own maneuver against her, carved an arc across the Angel Hair’s tail. “Eat that, ya ching wah tsao duh liao mahng,” he grinned wickedly, watching Maria Celestia tumble out of control after taking the full brunt of Roc’s wake, “Gimme a hard time, will ya?”
As happy as he was with himself, though, Dash didn’t linger overlong on gloating. In fact, he quickly let the amateurs aboard that Griffin fade quickly from his mind (although he would have to remember the tale the next time he saw Terry) and settled back into driving his own boat the rest of the way to the Lullabelle mine. “I reckon that’s the worst of it, Wyatt,” he offered, relaxing in his seat a bit and scanning the console and the view beyond the canopy with a well trained eye, “All’s left ta do now is ta bring this bird ta roost…”
((OOC: Room for interjection, commentary, etc, all through this, of course… assuming that Wyatt will grab the mic, here, and make a Captain-like announcement… “We’s still livin’… what’s the status, etc”…))
“…I dunno what th’ guay happened back there, Cap,” Dash continued after Wyatt had returned the mic to its cradle, “Din’t sound as if the Kid got the best of it, though… A’right, here’s our hitchin’ post.”
It wasn’t the easiest task in the ‘Verse, hitching a transport to a comet, but Dash didn’t struggle with it much more than any other docking procedure he’d ever pulled off. At least, that’s the impression one would get as gauged level of difficulty by the amount of cursing that flowed from the Sam’s mouth whilst he was setting Rocinante to the clamps. Once he felt as much as heard the mechanicals lock in place, he toggled the engines off and reached for the mic, himself. “We’re strapped on, folks,” he said, “ever’body feel free ta puke.”
((OOC: Aaand we’ll leave it there for now. Dash will (assuming he’s already got his weapons strapped) head for the engine room to see exactly what in the hell happened back there and check on Asher… “Ya a’right, Kid? Din’t scald yer pecker off didja?... Just yer arm? Well hell, ya got two o’ them… *grin*”))
Posted on 2007-04-03 at 13:38:17.
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Topic: It drives me crazy !!
Subject: No harm, no foul...
...like I said, once I realized you were havening (remember havening? ) a bad day, I knew what i'd done to "set you off".
Luv ya back.
it drives me crazy that I'm still help desking!  Well, here anyway... I do't know if it'd be better anywhere else, but here really SUX!!!
Posted on 2007-04-02 at 16:17:56.
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Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: Ask and ye shall receive
Eol corrupts your wish so badly that it runs away from home and ends up on the streets of LA, where it becomes a drug addicted, prostitue of a wish...
___________________________________________________________
I wish there were fewer days in the work week and more days for the weekend.
Posted on 2007-03-31 at 12:36:16.
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Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: Does care
^Having a rough day
< Having a rough week and apologizing to Lysk for any comments I made in fun that weren't taken that way...
V Wondering what the hell happened. 
I  you, Fuby! have a great weekend.
Posted on 2007-03-30 at 19:58:42.
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Topic: Getting to know you
Subject: My biggest fear...
...would have to be being stuck at the ATOMS Help Desk until retirement. *shudders*   
Posted on 2007-03-30 at 18:19:11.
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