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The Dojo
New Home
Callia, Dave, Dex and Ukon have been watching a one-time-only performance of Whatever Happened to Baby Bernard, Live in New Home. The show ended some time ago, and the audience are just dispersing, having enjoyed a buffet of popcorn, and whiskey, and margaritas and pina coladas . . .
Paste-pot calliaphone slugs back a pina colada, messily, saving a little drip for the ribbiting thing in her accordion.
Accomplice Teh Dave peers at Cordy. “What's ribbiting in there?”
Paste-pot calliaphone looks shifty. “nothin'” she says. “ribbit” says her accordion.
Accomplice Teh Dave peers at the accordion. “So Cordy's talking Frog now?” He grins.
Paste-pot calliaphone says, “Cordy? Frog? Dunno what you're talking about!” but she's not terribly convincing. mainly because of the small, multi-coloured frog that suddenly peeks out from within the accordion.
Spandex awwwws! “Cordy's got a prince charming!”
Paste-pot calliaphone grins. “Princess i think. Johnson said it wuz a girl frog.” the little frog hops about, trying to get some more pina colada, and tripping over its feet.
Accomplice Teh Dave laughs at the frog. “I think it takes after you.” He grins and offers his mostly-empty glass to the frog.
Spandex gives Cordy a thumbs-up. “Nice one, mate.” She stands, stretching and waving to callia and Dave and Ukon. “See you later!” and is gone
Paste-pot calliaphone 's frog “ribbits” appreciatively at Dave, and hops into the glass. there are some slrrrping sounds, and a hiccup.
Accomplice Teh Dave tips Teh to Dex as she disappears, and gets to his feet, stretching. “I think I'm gonna go for a jog along the coast.”
Accomplice Teh Dave pours the frog back into Cordy, making sure not to get any of the drink in the accordion, and slips the empty glass back into his pocket.
Paste-pot calliaphone nods, and scoops the little frog out of the glass. it flops in her palm, still hiccupping. She grins at it, a little blearily, and hiccups herself. whiskey-margarita-pina-colada-cocktail. way to go
Paste-pot calliaphone hugs back, and then sways a little, waving to the disappearing Dave and Dex. she looks round. hrmm. what to do when half-cut? why, the dojo of course!
Paste-pot calliaphone weaves over to her cart, and divests herself of Cordy (and of frog). “s'alright Cordy” she says. “i know you like t'protect me, but i'm TRAINED now, i'm a Professional. i'll be jus' FINE.”
Paste-pot calliaphone puts the unprotesting accordion into her cart, and heads up to show those masters how it's done!
Paste-pot calliaphone is booted out of the museum by a long-suffering Mister Stern. he points her towards the dojo, and off she trots, undaunted.
Paste-pot calliaphone returns – or more accurately, is returned – to her cart after . . . an interval that is almost quite respectable. if she was conscious, she might actually be quite pleased. if not triumphant
Paste-pot calliaphone 's master follows her out, and nods to the sawbones orderlies as they head back inside. She grins at callia, who's all peaceful-like. And settles down to wait.
Paste-pot calliaphone , after quite some time, opens an eye. Just the one. The other probly won't be opening for a day or two. She says, “Guhhhh.”
Tiffny Figg laughs. “Welcome back. And – nice going, for a weakling.”
Paste-pot calliaphone boggles. As well as you can boggle with just one eye open. She says, “Whuhhhhh?”
Tiffny Figg grins, and continues, “Well sure! You've come on a lot! It might've helped if you hadn't mixed up me with Anne Bassett, but . . . we can't fault you for trying!”
Tiffny Figg chuckles, and claps Callia on the back. “Jus' lay off the booze next time, and you'll be levelling up like the best of 'em.”
Paste-pot calliaphone says, “Huhhhh?” and struggles up, as her master hands her a parcel. she examines it. one rake handle, and a plastic shopping bag with holes in. “For practise.” “Uh-huhh.”
Paste-pot calliaphone 's master nods. “Get some rest, sleep it off. Keep practising – and come and see us again.” her grin turns slightly evil. “We always enjoy your visits.”
Paste-pot calliaphone says something not quite audible. But almost certainly something not polite. Her master grins again. “Aye, that's the spirit!” and vanishes into the dojo.
Common Ground
Paste-pot calliaphone enters the grounds, tugging her tin-opener behind her on its length of string. In her other hand, she carries a rake-handle and a torn plastic shopping bag.
Paste-pot calliaphone blinks. Quiet in here today! Grinning, she heads past the bar to a nice patch of open space.
Paste-pot calliaphone paces around the space, testing the ground for bounce. Her grin widens. This'll do nicely. And the fountains a decent distance away, so even if things go awry she probly won't get another bath.
Paste-pot calliaphone shudders briefly at the memory of all the impromptu dunkings she's had lately. Anyone would think that the universe was trying to tell her something. Anyone but Callia that is.
Paste-pot calliaphone realises her mind is wandering! Tsk tsk, she has to concentrate. Coming back to the present, she carefully strips off her accordion. It ribbits quietly at her.
Paste-pot calliaphone grins, as a small, brightly-coloured amphibian pokes its head out of the top of the accordion, and then vanishes inside once more. But she shakes her head. “you better watch, not join in.”
Paste-pot calliaphone explains, as she picks up her tin-opener and sets it beside the accordion. “s'not like it's dangerous or nuthin', but . . . y'know . . . i can't practise proper if i'm worrying 'bout you guys.”
Paste-pot calliaphone 's frog ribbits once again, from inside the accordion. the accordion itself does not say anything. likewise the tin-opener. Callia nods, patting Cordy. “a'right then, we're all set.”
FoxChild Zack walks in. he sits against a tree and looks around
Paste-pot calliaphone surveys the space, and then carefully positions the rake-handle and the ripped plastic bag, on the grass, a little distance from each other. She then backs away a little, and proceeds to warm up.
Paste-pot calliaphone sees a fox-fella wander in and sit down. she waves, friendly like, and resumes her warm-ups.
FoxChild Zack: Hello miss . . .
Paste-pot calliaphone 's warm-ups are on the unorthodox side of unusual. there is an approximation of star-jumps, followed by a handstand, a cigarette break, and a series of cartwheels, veering into the shrubbery.
FoxChild Zack wishes he had popcorn . . .her actions are fun to watch . . .
Paste-pot calliaphone , extricating herself from the camelias, says, “h'llo, how do?” to Zack. dusting herself down, she prepares to begin the Practise Proper.
FoxChild Zack says “I'm Ok, you?â€Â
Paste-pot calliaphone eyes the rake-handle, and the ripped plastic bag. and decides to tackle the rake-handle first. things didn't go so well with plastic bags yesterday. she approaches it cautiously.
Paste-pot calliaphone grins over her shoulder at Zack, still closing in on her prey “Oh i'm jus' dandy thankGUHhhhh”Concentration lost, she has stepped on one end of the handle, levering the other end up to hit her.
FoxChild Zack says “You Ok there?!â€Â
Paste-pot calliaphone takes a short break to admire the orbiting stars. But only a short break! Takes more than a rake-handle to the head to defeat her these days! And after all, it's not an actual rake.
Paste-pot calliaphone waves weakly at Zack, as she props herself back up. Round one to the rake-handle. Her head rings, obligingly.
FoxChild Zack watches.
Paste-pot calliaphone is back on her feet, dodging and dancing around the rake-handle. It lies there passively. But she's not fooled. She's getting to know its tricks. She has a few tricks of her own, in fact.
Paste-pot calliaphone feints, and feints again, and then fakes a stumble. And then, while the rake-handle's attention is thoroughly distracted, she pounces. A scuffle ensues.
Paste-pot calliaphone has both hands around the rake-handle's . . . handle. She grapples it bravely, rolling with it across the grass. It gets in a couple of hits, but she's in control now.
Paste-pot calliaphone finally pins the rake-handle to the turf with her knees. And looks up, flushed and beaming.
Paste-pot calliaphone 's triumph is cut short, however, by a gust of wind, which picks up the nearby plastic bag and blows it into her face.
Paste-pot calliaphone stumbles back from the defeated rake-handle. Gharrkhhing, she claws at the bag. It can't do hermuch harm, on account of being all torn up. But it sure feels real to her.
Paste-pot calliaphone 's training is starting to show! She only punches herself on the jaw once before realising it's not a lot of help. And then she regroups, focuses on the plastic bag's weaknesses.
Paste-pot calliaphone moves through the wind, orienting herself to face away from it, and then just lifts an edge of the bag. The wind does the rest, blowing the bag off her face and onto a nearby holly bush.
Paste-pot calliaphone blinks, and gasps a bit, and then realises what just happened. Twice victorious, she whoops and backflips, and then flomphs down to catch her breath.
Paste-pot calliaphone lights a cigarette, and offers another to Zack. She's still puffing a bit, but she looks well pleased with herself.
Constable Swede had been watching for some time and applaudes grinning.
Paste-pot calliaphone , startled by the applause, looks round. “Swede!” she says, also grinning. “DIDYA SEE DIDYA SEE I BEAT 'EM BOTH!”
Constable Swede nods and smiles. “I saw Callia. Your getting better.
Paste-pot calliaphone visibly puffs up with pride. “i been training” she confesses. “Dave taught me some stuff. An' Tiffny Figg gave me these” she indicates the vanquished not-quite-monsters.
Constable Swede looks surprised: “Dave? hmm . . . well it shows. Most in confidence
Constable Swede walks over to Callia. “Well keep it up and if you ever need some pointers, I'm more then happy to give some.
Paste-pot calliaphone nodnods. “he 'xplained about being small'n'stuff an' running away not always being best an' not to close my eyes an' how to take a hit an' we sparred an' i threw him!” once. eventually.
Constable Swede smiles: “Well small and agile can even be an advantage over big and strong. You just have to know how to use that advantage.”
Paste-pot calliaphone beams. “thassreally kind, thankyou Swede!” she locates a chocomilk and chugchugs. “i'm gonna try the dojo again soonish. this time i'll try it sober, mebbe. challenge the right master.”
Constable Swede: Sure. Well let me know if I can help. For now I'm off to do some work at my home. Bye Callia.”
Paste-pot calliaphone says, “bye Swede, nice t'seeya” and salutes him with the empty carton.
Paste-pot calliaphone rests for a little while longer, before retrieving her belongings. the plastic bag is trickiest, on account of the holly bush, but she manages to hook it with the rake-handle. handy!
Paste-pot calliaphone dons her accordion (complete with frog), and picks up the tin-opener's string. “okie then, lessgosee about some breakfast, huh?” and with that . . .
Paste-pot calliaphone trotstripstumbles out of the grounds, bumping the rake-handle against everything she passes, and tugging her tin-opener behind her
New Home
Paste-pot calliaphone strides purposefully into New Home, and trips over her feet.
Contestant Sinna waves to Calliaphone, then cringes when she trips.
Paste-pot calliaphone rolls to a halt outside the Diner. She sighs deeply, sitting up and dusting off her accordion. “sorry, Cordy. lesstrythat again shall we?” seeing Sinna wave, she waves back.
Emperor Badass Neeip Waves to the Rook and Calli, Servo' soffering assistance
Paste-pot calliaphone smiles, and gladly accepts the servo assistance. “thankee, Neeip.” She looks around, getting her bearings again. For a moment, the Diner beckons, but then she remembers why she came here.
Dark Wizard Valtarshol waves to Calli, as the wall relinquishes him.
Paste-pot calliaphone sighs again. Better get this over with. Looking apprehensive, she heads into the dojo.
Paste-pot calliaphone waves gloomily to Valtarshol as she trudges in through the doors.
Emperor Badass Neeip Waves to Calli, Wishing her Luck “Get'm Calli, G'Luck”
. . . a short while and much New Home Chaos later . . .
Paste-pot calliaphone reels out of the dojo after Ben, with the smile of the truly punch-drunk on her face. honest guv! she was actuallysober when she went in this time.
Emperor Badass Neeip Grins to Calli, Giving her a thumbs up
Paste-pot calliaphone totters to a low wall and attempts to sit on it. she only misses by a coupla inches, and makes do with the floor. in one hand she is clutching an ice-pack, and in the other, a piece of paper.
Emperor Badass Neeip 's Servo's Offer to Calli a few Ice packs, a Cola, a F.A.K(Pain relivers included, nattuarly.), and a Thumbs up.
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