#judo-man gets beaten up for no good reason

[wrestlingwithhistory]

A Gentleman Never Tells - Chris Adams

Gentleman Chris Adams is a name that many people miss when they talk about wrestlers from the UK who not only did good business in the US during the 80’s but helped to train some of the biggest names in professional wrestling during the 90’s and helped to bring to light one of the most popular finishers in the industry today.

Chris Adams was born in Rugby, Warwickshire on 10th February 1955 and from a young age was involved in competitive Judo, which he continued training in exclusively for around 14 years which he earned a Black Belt in the discipline. Both he and his brother Neil competed in national and world championships, with Neil actually winning a silver medal in the 1980 and 1984 Olympics. Chris was a member of the 1976 Olympic team but never competed for Great Britain.

Chris Adams began taking part in Professional Wrestling in 1978. He had no formal training in wrestling and used his expertise in Judo in his early years of wrestling. He worked with Joint Promotions and appeared on ITV’s World of Sport regularly taking on the likes on Mark ‘Rollerball’ Rocco, Dynamite Kid, Fit Finlay, Adrian Street and Davey Boy Smith. His finishing move, originally called ‘the Judo Kick’ was later renamed a ‘Superkick’ and is still used by many professional wrestlers today.

By 1983, Adams was approached by Fritz Von Erich to work for World Class Championship Wrestling and he officially joined on 15th April, 1983. During his time with WCCW, he feuded with many of the company’s big stars, from The Von Erichs to Ric Flair, and the Fabulous Freebirds. He was tag partners with Gino Hernandez and became the second iteration of The Dynamic Duo in 1985, where one of their most notable matches was a hair match against the Von Erichs which The Duo lost and were shaved in front of a rapturous crowd.

Chris was due to go into a feud with Gino going into 1986. They had worked an angle against The Cosmic Cowboys, who were actually Kevin and Kerry Von Erich in disguise. The finish to the match was Adams being blinded by hair cream that was thrown by Hernandez, resulting in a loss against the Cowboys. Chris used this time in the storyline to go back to the UK and visit him family, but during that time, on 2nd February 1986, Gino Hernandez died of a Cocaine Overdose. Adams was questioned by Scotland Yard about Gino’s death as authorities in Texas originally treated the incident as a homicide, but this was later changed to an Overdose by officials. There is still some scepticism over Hernandez death today.

Shortly after this, Adams started to become involved in a number of high-profile altercations, many of which would hamper his career despite his talent in the ring. In June of 1986 while travelling back from a show in Puerto Rico, Adams headbutted an Airline pilot and punched a male attendant. This resulted in a 90-day jail and a $500 fine. It is believed that Adams’ belligerence was a result of being denied alcohol by an FAA inspector and that he was restrained by Kevin Von Erich in the process. By September of 1986, Adams had left WCCW to join Bill Watts’ UWF but later returned to WCCW in 1987 as UWF was absorbed into the NWA.

In UWF, Adams became tag partners with Terry Taylor, known to many as The Red Rooster in WWF in later years. They later feuded and carried this back over into the newly acquired by NWA, WCCW. Over the next few years, Adams would find himself in the upper mid-card region of the company’s talent pool, competing against many of the companies’ big stars and also working with companies like Georgia Championship Wrestling and World Wrestling Alliance.

In 1988, Chris Adams opened his own training school based out of the world-famous Dallas Sportatorium. Two of his most popular students were Scott Hall/Razor Ramon and Stone-Cold Steve Austin. In 1989, Adams was arrested and sentenced to a year’s probation after his wife was found beaten after Adams had flown into a rage, again related to his Alcohol abuse. He was later involved in more legal troubles and again place don probation for 2 DUI arrests in 1991.

After the WCCW has ceased business in 1990, Adams returned to the independent circuit. He would visit numerous territories having matches for various championships during this time. He won the GWF Heavyweight Title on 2 occasions in 1994 and also a brief stint as the NWA Heavyweight champion in 1995 after Jim Crockett had taken control of the company.

He continued wrestling with various NWA affiliated territories and other independents up until joining WCW in 1997.

When joining WCW, Chris was placed into a British stable called The Blue Bloods alongside Lord Steven Regal (later William Regal) and Squire David Taylor. This stable was not together for very long due to some personal issues between Regal and Adams which hampered the stable from becoming credible in the eyes of the WCW officials. Adams wrestled against Randy Savage in the first match of WCW’s new midweek show, Thunder in 1998. Adams got a pinfall over Savage, but the decision was overturned by JJ Dillon after interference from Lex Luger swayed the match in Adams’ favour. He began to drop down the card, working as an enhancement for other talents to get victories over. He left the company in 1999 and returned to Texas where he began promoting shows and wrestling part time.

During his career, Adams unfortunately fell victim to a number of addictions, his first with Alcohol. David Manning said in the Documentary ‘Gentleman’s Choice’ that his Alcohol dependency was heightened after a flight cancellation due to unforeseen circumstances by the airline prompted them to offer a free bar to the wrestlers on the flight, not for a few drinks but for several hours until a flight was arranged for them.

Adams was also a heavy user of GHB, which at the time was being used by bodybuilders and wrestlers alike as an alternative to steroids but it did not have the same anabolic effects as steroids and left longer addictive tendencies with the users. Many of the people using them believed that the GHB worked while they slept.

Adams and his then girlfriend Linda Kaphengst overdosed on a combination of alcohol and GHB in April 2000. Adams survived, but Kaphengst was not so lucky. The overdose starved her brain of oxygen and her family were told that should she survive, she would likely have long term brain trauma. A few hours later, her situation worsened, and her family had to make the difficult to turn off her breathing apparatus.

Adams was not originally suspected in any foul play at the time of the incident and went on to marry again in August 2001, but an intoxicated and threatening voicemail left on answer machine to Pam Hernandez stating that if she did not stop meddling in his affairs then she would ‘end up like Linda’. This voicemail was brought to the Homicide team dealing with Linda’s death and Chris was indicted on a manslaughter charge.

He was due to be indicted but the day before his hearing, he was fatally shot in the chest during a drunken fight with a close friend Brent ‘Booray’ Parnell on October 7th, 2001. Booray claimed self-defence, stating that Adams snapped off a piece of bedframe and tried to attack him with it. Booray claims in the documentary ‘Gentleman’s Choice’ that he does not know the reason for Adams’ behaviour at the time, other than asking him to keep the noise down as his mother was sleeping in the next room. He said that his eyes were black and almost demonic at the time of the fight, which is a known side effect of the drug GHB.

Booray was cleared of all charges against him as acting in self-defence.

Adams, although a clean-cut Olympic prospect from the UK, fell victim to the harsh lifestyles of living on the road as a professional wrestler. Though many still speak of him based on the poor choices he made during his life, many still speak of the apt moniker ‘Gentleman’ given to the late Judoka-turned-Wrestler.

His legacy of wrestling some of the sport’s greatest names in the 80’s and 90’s, training future hall of fame wrestlers and one of the UK’s least discussed exports is somewhat tarnished by his final days.

I have posted the link from Youtube to the 2008 documentary ‘Gentleman’s Choice’ below uploaded in full by The Hannibal TV.

If you have liked this post, please leave a review and follow for future posts.

Thanks!

https://youtu.be/-sgxAH47TsA

#gentleman #wcw wrestling #wrestling #history #uk #von erichs #gino hernandez #steve austin #stone cold steve austin #scott hall

[clintashaotp]

Author’s note/summary: Clintasha feat. Peter and the team! April challenge day 15, I hope you guys are enjoying the fics so far. <3

1,076 Words

Playing Pretend

.

Natasha Romanoff meets Peter when Tony has him train with the other new Avengers recruits. Natasha is supposed to be observing Wanda in particular, but something about the kid draws her attention. He’s one of the most energetic people she’s met since she’s seen Clint on energy drinks, and he has an infectious, awkward smile. 

Natasha doesn’t like him. 

He’s smart, he’s strong, and he improves quickly over the weeks. Tony has to write a new software program for their mission simulators because Peter had beaten all the levels. He gets along with Clint as much as could have been expected. Clint is pretty much a teenager himself. 

There’s just something wrong with him. He’s too happy, too nice, too eager to help people. So Natasha stays distant towards the kid. 

One night after dinner when the recruits had joined them for pizza, Clint confronts her about it when she’s doing the dishes. 

“Why are you being so weird with Peter?” he asks in a low voice. 

“I’m not,” she says shortly, stacking the plates in the sink harder than she meant to. A corner of one of the plates chips off with her force, and Clint sighs, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. 

“Whatever’s going on, you can talk to me,” he murmurs in her ear, but she shrugs him off before the team can see their small display of affection.

“It’s nothing,” she repeats, and Clint gives her a sideways look.

“Fine. But try to be a little more friendly. If Tony notices, he’ll beat your ass.”

Clint leaves Natasha to the soapy water and her confused thoughts. The rest of the team starts a movie on the couches while Natasha cleans. Steve offers to help, but she turns him down quickly. 

She watches the kid out of the corner of her eye. He laughs so brightly, and his smile seems to light up his whole face. It can’t be real. Can it? No one smiles like that. No kid is that happy. 

When Natsaha is done with the dishes she sneaks back to her room instead of joining the team. Being around that kid scares her in a way she doesn’t understand. 

It’s not until almost two months after Peter’s arrival at the facility that Natasha understands what it is. She is assigned to privately tutor Peter in judo, and the second they get on the mats, something in her brain clicks. He’s excited to learn, quick on his feet, and trained in a lot of weapons. He’s not just a quick learner. He must have had training somewhere else. 

Of course. He can’t be real. He’s too happy. He’s too energetic, enthusiastic, too...perfect. No kid is that happy. So if he’s faking it...it’s to gain their trust, it must be. 

Natasha tackles him to the mat in seconds, and he groans, the wind knocked out of him.

“So you teach by example?” he manages, and she pins his arms down, holding him still. 

“Who are you really?” she growls, and his expression of shock is so genuine she believes for a second he isn’t acting. Man, he’s good. “Is this...part of training, or something?” he asks, and Natasha leans close, staring into his eyes, searching for the tells of a lie. “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing here? Are you a spy? Trying to infiltrate our ranks? Gather information on us? Sell our secrets to your boss?” “What? No! What’s going on?” he tries to sit up, and Natasha forces him down again. 

“You’re a good actor, I’ll give you that.”

“Acting? No, what? I’m just...what’s going on right now?”

“Please. You must be pretending, kid. No one is as happy as you are. No one. No kids just grow up happy, that’s not--”

“Natasha, what are you doing?” Clint, Tony and Steve burst through the main doors, and Natasha whirls to face him. Peter uses her momentary distraction to kick her away, and scrambles to his feet. His strength sends Natasha tumbling off of him, and she jumps gracefully into a fighter’s crouch. Clint sprints over to her, grabbing her arm firmly. 

“What’s going on?” he hisses in her ear, and she glares at him. “He has to be a spy, Clint, he has to be. Think about it, he’s trained, he’s a good actor, it has to be fake, it has to be!” it comes out a little louder than she had intended, and she sees Tony’s glare and Steve’s look of confusion. But Clint’s face shifts to one of recognition. 

“Natasha...he’s not you. He’s not one of those red room kids.”

“But…”

“He’s just a kid, Natasha. He’s a quick learner, that’s all. And he’s not pretending. He has reasons to be happy, like...friends, and family…” Clint trails off, waiting for the realization to hit her. And it does hit her, hard, like a punch to the stomach, and she folds into his arms. 

“I didn’t--I’m so sorry,” she whispers, desperately holding her tears back. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…”

“I know, Nat. I know. It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” 

Natasha hears approaching footsteps and whirls around to see Peter standing a few feet away from her, looking apprehensive but friendly. 

“Um, Ms. Romanoff? I’m...sorry that things were hard for you. When you were a kid. Because...I know there’s got to be a reason that you got upset, and that makes sense. But I promise I’m not a spy?” he says it as if it’s a question, and Natasha nods slowly. 

“I’m sorry,” she says again, and Peter shrugs, giving her a half-smile. “It was good training. You know, for if I get captured, or something.” “Not on my watch you won’t,” Tony says firmly. “And Romanoff...I get it. There are some things that you can’t get out of your head. Some programming you can’t undo.”

“I guess so,” she mutters. “But I won’t do it again.”

“Yeah. You’d better not, or I’ll send that video I have of you and hawkboy to the press,” Tony smirks, and Natasha gives him a death glare. Clint just laughs. 

“Well, if Peter is going to stand a chance, you’d better train him,” Clint chuckles. “You know, so if you do it again, he might be able to defend himself.”

Natasha smirks at him, then gives Peter a level look. “I guess we’d better get to work then.”

#natasha romanoff #clint barton #clintasha #clintashaotp writes #clintashaotp fanfic #fanfic #marvel #peter parker #spiderman #april challenge #clintashaotp april challenge #april challenge day 15

[invertedeidolon]

The Longest Library #4: The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle (Or, Eidolon feels their OTHER age just a little too clearly and needs a nap now)

(This is a series in which I attempt to read and review all (or most of) my library of 297 books.)

Rundown: A unicorn gets lost in that thing that happens where you exist in a weird, neverending pocket of time and when you finally leave your room your family is like 'oh my god we haven't seen you in three months! The dog died while you were gone!' except for her she doesn't look like hell because she's a Fucking Unicorn, but she does figure out that literally every other member of her race has gone missing from the world. She travels with a baby-faced magic man and a bitter but not yet broken older woman to find out where the hell everyone is. 5/5, makes me feel ancient and tired but no longer lonely.

So as a reader, almost all of these reviews (more like reflections) are just that: reflections of myself. So I'll be talking a bunch about the things that spoke to me and my soul. It might not necessarily speak to others in the same ways, with the same words, however, my ratings are based on how enjoyable I think others might find them, and I hope that in seeing that something could speak so richly and deeply to me, that others might give it a chance in the hopes that it might speak to them too.

This is a book that speaks in my language. It's a way of describing things that's a step to the left of your average descriptions, but the images they invoke are visceral and heavily textured.

From the very first page:

"She did not look anything like a horned horse, as unicorns are often pictured, being smaller and cloven-hoofed, and possessing that oldest, wildest grace that horses have never had, that deer have only in a shy, thin imitation and goats in dancing mockery"

God damn. God DAMN. Mmm. Tasty.

"The door did not swing open, and the iron bars did not thaw into starlight. But the harpy lifted her wings, and the four sides of the cage fell slowly away and down, like the petals of some great flower waking at night. And out of the wreckage the harpy bloomed, terrible and free, screaming, her hair swinging like a sword. The moon withered and fled."

AUGH. FUCK. YES. FUCK ME UP, PETER. MMM.

"The magic knows what it wants to do, he thought, bouncing as the horse dashed across a creek. But I never know what it knows. Not at the right time, anyway, I'd write a letter, if I knew where it lived."

So, Schmendrick (the baby faced magic man I mentioned before) has the same feelings about his magical talents as I have about my own, magic or no. My own magic comes and it goes. It's incredibly intuitive in nature and almost refuses to yield to order, logic, or ceremony. Same with my art, my writing, or anything that comes from the spirit. Even things like expressing my emotions feel this way. It's there when it's there, and it's not when it's not, and it's not when it's there. It doesn't feel like a part of me at times, despite being the purest description of my own soul when it decides to take form. Like an absent parent that never once hugged you but knows exactly what kind of candy bar you currently like and that you're nervous about your first boyfriend and the way he talks to you sometimes and how lonely things are getting. I grow resentful for it's absence, and have not grown welcoming to it's presence. It's something that needs to be worked on soon. In fact, Molly's sentiments on first seeing the unicorn kind of describe it pretty well:

"And what good is it to me that you're here now? Where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this?" With a flap of her hand she summed herself up; barren face, desert eyes, and yellowing heart. "I wish you had never come, why do you come now?"

That has always been a powerful moment that whenever I see it in the movie (and especially having finally gotten to read it in the book), I've come to understand it deeper, and deeper. Only now realizing that I've lost an entire decade of my life to a violently interrupted life and feeling like if my talents weren't stifled by years spent crying, in pain, and not really wishing to be dead but wishing I Weren't, I could be ten years ahead. And only now does it come to me, in fits and starts, when I've been displaced and scattered and turned to half-a-person, not when I called desperately to it, needing something, anything stronger than me, and being given nothing. Why now? I've gone far enough without you. Molly forgives her. I myself become pale with a feeling of unworthiness.

"The rind of the country cracked, and the flesh of it peeled back into gullies and ravines or shriveled into scabby hills."

There's just so much TEXTURE in a lot of these descriptions. I feel like the background artists in the movie could have done something a bit darker and grimier, although the movie did skip over the fact that the land was in a magically induced famine, to technically it wasn't relevant. Although I feel like the land itself being so scarred makes the king and his whole atmosphere come into sharper focus.

"Drinn opened his eyes and gave her an angry look. 'WE earned nothing," He protested. "It was our parents and grandparents whom the witch asked for help, and I'll grant you that they were as much to blame as Haggard, in their way. We would have handled the matter quite differently." And every middle-aged face scowled at every older face.

Boomers.

"The magician stood erect, menacing the attackers with demons, metamorphoses, paralyzing ailments, and secret judo holds. Molly picked up a rock."

Not going to lie, this part made me laugh.

"No hooves could have made these, Molly thought dazedly; the earth had torn itself shrinking from the burden of the Bull. She thought of the unicorn, and her heart paled."

"The Red Bull did not know her, and yet she could feel that it was herself he sought, and no white mare. Fear blew her dark then, and she ran away, while the Bull's raging ignorance filled the sky and spilled over into the valley."

The descriptions of the Bull especially capture just how heavy and menacing and seemingly mindlessly terrifying it is, not just physically (which is very effectively communicated mind you) but psychologically. The unicorn's terror is my own. There's no fear like the root of you realizing the person in front of you is intent on soul-murder, yet wholly ignorant of their own deeds. Being run down and forced to submit, forced to die, and realizing the blind, animal nature of your attacker. It's how they are. Like blaming a wolf for eating cattle. It can't be reasoned with.

"If she would try one more time to escape- but she was the Bull's and not her own. The magician had one glimpse of her, pale and lost between the pale horns, before the wild red shoulders surged across his sight. Then, swaying and sick and beaten, he closed his eyes and let his hopelessness march through him, until something woke somewhere that had wakened in him once before. He cried aloud, for fear and joy.

What words the magic spoke this second time, he never knew surely. They left him like eagles, and he let them go; and when the last one was away, the emptiness rushed back with a thunderclap that threw him on his face. It happened as quickly as that. This time he knew before he picked himself up that the power had been and gone."

You know, doing anything that has to do with having a soul is exactly this exhausting sometimes. I get excited and talk about my interests more energetically than none? I feel like I just shouted it at the top of my lungs and violently shook the person I was talking to by the shoulders. They say I was even toned, quiet even, but I'm out of breath and my heart is in my throat and I feel a little sick in the arms from it.

"For a moment she turned in a circle, staring at her hands, which she held high and useless, close to her breast. She bobbed and shambled like an ape doing a trick, and her face was the silly, bewildered face of a joker's victim. And yet she could make no move that was not beautiful. Her trapped terror was more lovely than any joy that Molly had ever seen, and that was the most terrible thing about it."

*sips the words like fine wine* *inhales through their teeth* MMMmm fuck yeah~

"I am myself still. This body is dying, I can feel it rotting all around me. How can anything that is going to die be real? How can it be truly beautiful?"

See, I have the opposite problem, where I feel like I've been long dead, and people keep digging up my corpse and forcing me to walk on broken, stringy legs, the moist, forgiving soil not even yet dried. I can feel it living all around me. How can anything that is going to live be unreal? How can it be truly horrific? I'm supposed to be a memory by now.

"Prince Lir's face bent toward her: older by five dragons, but handsome and silly still."

I love impactful but unconventional measurements of time and space like this. More of these please. 'You've been gone since seven arguments ago! And you know how slow the old man is to anger.' 'I've aged by three national crises in the span of two weeks, please help.'

"...holding her voice together like the edges of a wound."

*licks the goddamn wine glass like an animal* MMPH

"There was too much to hold, too much ever to use; and still he found himself weeping with the pain of his impossible greed. He thought, or said, or sang, I did not know that I was so empty, to be so full."

"I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, though I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret."

I have been small, and some part of me is small yet. I am full of terror, and hunger of death, though I cannot utter a noise, and I cannot die.

Please read this book.

Have a song that I really like and will likely make an old-fashioned AMV out of it at some point.

4 down 293 to go.

#The last unicorn #peter s beagle #book review #thelongestlibrary #origin1 #wri1

[feelingfredly]

The Fox Guards the Wolf

Part Three

The Rooster and the Hen House

The dojo was humming with activity, and Ichigo breathed in the familiar scents of sweat, leather mats, and incense, pulling his focus tightly in upon himself, and letting all of his stress melt away.

The first Saturday of every month was for officially refereed matches, and he’d faced three different opponents over the course of the morning, but none of them had beaten him so far. Now he had one more round, and he was done for the day.

He bowed to the referee, and then to his opponent, sending his best friend a challenging smirk.

“Hajime!”  

The two were evenly matched.  They’d been training together for four years, but this was the first chance they’d had to face off against each other recently due to Renji’s crazy study schedule.  Not many of the students at the dojo had as much experience as they did, and it was nice to be able to stretch his skills without being afraid he was going to accidentally hurt someone.

Ichigo raised his hands and lunged, thrusting one leg out and hooking it behind Renji’s foot as he trapped their hands high between their chests.

Grappling was Renji’s bread and butter.  He was taller, and a little heavier, and if he could get a good grip Ichigo would be in trouble. Today Ichigo was faster, though, and getting a good foothold off the bat gave him all the edge he needed.  He twisted, pulling Renji’s body closer, and then threw him over with all his strength, slamming the taller man onto his back.

“Ippon! Soremade.” The referee’s voice cut through the background noise. Match over. Three for three.

The friends stood, faced each other, and bowed again.

“Shit, Kurosaki,” Renji said, once they cleared the mat, “You were really in the zone today. I haven’t seen you move that fast since Inoue-san tried to get you to eat her chocolate-wasabi onigiri.”  He laughed but Ichigo remembered that day. He had moved pretty fast.  With Inoue’s food you had to—it was run or die.  “Three ippons in a row! You could have at least given me a chance.  You had me on my back faster than a fūzoku.”

Ichigo shook his head and tried to ignore the trace of red the teasing brought to his face. Renji was shameless.  Luckily, he’d taught Ichigo to give as good as he got.

“Just didn’t want to tease you too much, Abarai.  I know how hot and bothered you get thinking about pinning me like that.  You’d never have been able to spar with a hard-on.”

As freshmen the two had met in the dojo.  Ichigo had taken judo lessons since he turned twelve, and had been expected to keep training by his father, but Renji used judo as an outlet for some of his less socially acceptable impulses. He loved the physicality of it, and said more than once that it was the only thing that kept him from getting kicked out of school. It had only taken a few weeks for the two sparring partners to become friends, and after that first semester they found an apartment close to their classes and moved in together.

They’d fought off and on that first year. Renji went out drinking every weekend and slept through half the undergraduate population—male and female—and didn’t understand why Ichigo spent all his time studying. After a while, though, the newness of freedom wore off and he settled down into a more reasonable routine.  He had an ambitious streak that pushed him, and he strove to be the best in every class, but it never turned him into an asshole. He was still the charming, outgoing goofball he’d been from the beginning, and he only occasionally teased Ichigo about his volumes of Shakespeare by the bathtub, and the medical journals he left on the kitchen counter.

His dad hadn’t been thrilled when he said he wanted to move off campus, but after a few meetings he and Renji had hit it off.  Both Renji’s parents had died when he was small and he’d been raised in foster care, and while Kurosaki Isshin would never admit it, the redhead had become almost a second son. When Renji had been accepted to law school, he was just as proud as he’d been of Ichigo’s MCAT scores, and he’d bragged about them to anyone who would listen.

Hopefully, he’d never realize what his sons had gotten up to over the years.

“You working at the clinic tonight?” Renji asked. “I didn’t check the schedule this morning.”

“Not tonight.” Ichigo said. “I swapped with Yamazaki-san, so he could attend his little sister’s graduation ceremony last week, so I have an unexpected evening off.”

“Hot date?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes.  “Only if you count my laptop.”

Renji snorted.  “Sadly, that might sound better if I knew you had a porn addiction, but no.  You’re going to find some dusty corner and commune with your muse again aren’t you?”

They hit the lockers and Ichigo pulled his clothes out, focusing on getting dressed so he didn’t have to answer.

Renji was more supportive than most about his writing. He agreed that spending a year working on getting his novel finished and finding an agent was important, but he didn’t understand Ichigo’s choice to stop dating until he’d made a final decision about med school. For him, getting laid was a priority—like breathing—and he was convinced Ichigo was crazy to try to deny himself.

It wasn’t like Ichigo had completely given up on sex.  He’d had a few dates where he’d ended up in someone’s bed, but they’d been one night with no strings attached, and he never ended up in the same bed twice.  There just wasn’t enough attraction with any of them to make it worth the effort.

“My muse, as you put it, is better company than anyone I’ve been out with recently.” He tugged his shirt over his head and pulled it down. “Anyway, you know how I feel. Until I get things settled it isn’t fair to ask someone to put up with my shit.  Hell, I don’t want to put up with my shit.”

Renji came around the corner, dress shirt unbuttoned and untucked, and Ichigo sighed.  It wasn’t fair. The man was hot as hell, with his chest tatted up, and his muscles rippling subtly under smooth skin. At one time Ichigo thought he’d found his perfect match, but it wasn’t meant to be. They’d slept together a few times, and the redhead was as enthusiastic a lover as he was a sparring partner, but there was something missing and they both knew it.  

“Don’t sell yourself short, man.” Long fingers made short work of his buttons. “There are lots of people out there who have less of an idea of what they’re doing with their lives than you.  You’ve got a job, you’re writing a novel, you’re smart, you’re good looking,” he looked down at him and grinned, “and you have the hottest roommate in the history of cohabitation.”

Renji cocked his head to one side, looked at something over Ichigo’s shoulder, and stage whispered.  “Someone’s taken notice at least.  Although he seems a little on the shy side.”

Ichigo turned to see what he was talking about.  “What? Who?” All he could see were a few other judo students.

Renji shook his head, and looked a little dismayed.  “Dude was just standing by the door.  I noticed him watching the matches earlier.  Good looking guy.  I guess he saw me watching him, uh, watching, and ducked out.”

Ichigo slid his feet into his shoes and grabbed his bag, the weight of the laptop heavy as he slung it over his shoulder.  

“You sure he was watching me?” He looked at his friend. “Of the two of us, you’re the one who gathers groupies.”

Renji lost his smart-ass grin and shook his head.  “No way.  I gave him a good long look—you know I like the ones that look like they could do a little damage, and this guy looked like he could hold his own—but he didn’t notice me at all.  He was all about you.”

Ichigo felt his heart speed up a little.  “What did he look like?  Kind of tall?  Shoulders? Blond hair?”

Renji shook his head again, but looked questioningly down at him. “No.  Your height. Dark. Black hair, dark eyes, mid-twenties? Moved like a fighter.”

Sounded like another not-Yakuza, but this one had found him. Shit.

He shut his locker door a little too hard and tried to tamp down the disappointment he felt that it hadn’t been the geta wearing man from the day before. It wasn’t like there was any reason to expect to see him again. He hadn’t even told Ichigo his name.  

Even if he had said he’d see him again.

Renji stared at him a minute, and Ichigo could hear the wheels grinding away in his head as he put two and two together and as usual, ended up with five.  “What’s going on, Kurosaki? Are you in some kind of trouble? Is this blond you mentioned giving you grief?”

See? Five.

Still. While Renji could be as over-protective as Isshin, it was hard to mind. One of the things they’d first connected over was a hardcore desire to avoid the local gangs, and it was still a hot-button topic for his roommate. Renji had more than his share of run-ins with tough guys in the foster care system and he’d considered it his job to protect the kids who were weaker or smaller than him, whether it was from lousy foster parents, or predatory thugs looking to recruit cannon fodder for their turf wars.   For a lawyer, it was an excellent skill set. He could usually smell gang members a mile away, and it helped keep him out of trouble.  So, if this guy didn’t set off Renji’s sensors, maybe he wasn’t a bad guy.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

“Something strange happened yesterday at Como’s.  I was getting ready to  head in for my shift at the clinic when these two guys showed up with neon signs over their heads screaming We’re Bad Guys. Before I knew it, I was running a little interference in the middle of some sort of throw-down.  No one got hurt.” He thought about that and changed it. “Well, one of the guys with guns got hurt, but he was kind of asking for it.”

Renji stopped dead in the middle of buckling his belt, his eyebrows halfway to his hairline.  “Guns? Why am I only hearing about this now?  Did you call your old man and tell him?”

This was so not a conversation Ichigo wanted to be having.

“I’m telling you now. I didn’t tell you yesterday because you were balls deep in the flavor of the week when I got home last night and I didn’t feel like ruining the mood.  And no, I didn’t call my dad because there was nothing he could have done about it.  He’s retired.  Anyway, the man who was at the center of the whole thing seemed to have everything well in hand. He was so smooth you’d think that sort of thing happened to him every day.”

Renji made a strangled noise.  “Competence isn’t a good thing in these situations. You have to take this seriously. If you got in the middle of some turf war…”

Ichigo scrubbed his hand over his face. “It wasn’t like that. These guys were more like high-end kidnappers than gangbangers.”

Oddly enough, that didn’t improve things. Renji looked like he was going to have a stroke.  His face was almost as red as his hair.

“Kidnappers.” He glared. “Do you have any idea how crazy this sounds? And you didn’t let your dad, the retired police lieutenant, know? What the fuck, Kurosaki?”

Ichigo ignored the questions and walked out into the dojo with Renji struggling along behind him, still trying to get his shoes on.

“You know how Goat-face gets.  The minute he heard he’d start freaking out and acting like I was fourteen and being brought home from getting my ass kicked, again. I’m twenty-three, Abarai. I have a black belt in judo and a brown belt in karate.  I can handle myself. I don’t need to run to my dad for help every time something happens.”

He didn’t mention that it would terrify his sisters, or that it would throw the entire Kurosaki household into turmoil, forcing his dad to relive the nightmare of his wife’s death.  His father had many skills.  Moving on wasn’t one of them.  

“Kurosaki-san!”

The voice came from one of the younger instructors trying to flag him down as he headed for the exit.

“Someone left this for you at the desk.” Ichigo took the message with a respectful bow and murmured thanks, and continued out the door.

After the dojo the street was oddly quiet, the background buzz dropping to just faint traffic noise, and the two friends stopped and stood against the wall, looking down at the card in Ichigo’s hand.

It was a white card with a small red embossed inkan in the corner, the writing clean and precise, and it was clearly addressed to Kurosaki Ichigo.

“What’s that?” Renji asked, peering over his shoulder. “Love letter from a secret admirer? Maybe he was too shy to stay and ask you out in person. Or maybe it’s a ransom demand from your friendly neighborhood kidnappers. It’s even odds.”

Ichigo made a fed up sound. “Drop it, Abarai. Remember, I know where you sleep.”

Renji waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “As if I could forget. I keep my door open in case you ever want me to comfort you after a bad dream.”

Ichigo stared at his friend. It was like living with an overgrown puppy with ADHD and a sex addiction. How the man managed to survive in law school was a mystery.

Maybe he fucked all his professors.  It would explain a lot.

“Who is Tsukabishi Tessai?” Renji asked, switching his focus back to the note and Ichigo groaned at the mental whiplash. Definitely ADHD.

“I met him yesterday at the coffee house.”

Ichigo thought back and tried to remember all the details about the man that he could.  He was tall, even taller than Renji, with dark skin and tiny braids running along his scalp. The most powerful feeling Ichigo had been left with about him, though, was one of almost preternatural calm.  It was as if nothing short of a bomb going off could unsettle the man.  A good trait for someone faced with armed bad guys, he supposed.

“He was not one of the kidnappers I’m presuming?”

Ichigo sighed but didn’t feed the troll.

He re-read the note wondering if it was some sort of trick, but it hadn’t changed.  “No. He showed up after everything started to go to hell. He was driving, but he didn’t act like any chauffeur I’ve ever heard of.  Instead of freaking out over someone trying to grab his boss, or over the fact that we basically beat the crap out of two guys in the middle of the sidewalk, he just apologized for being late, took their guns and tossed the men into the back seat of his car.”

Renji looked like he wanted to start yelling again, but he restrained himself.  Barely.

“And this is… what? A thank you note? A threat? He wants to make sure you keep your mouth shut and don’t tell the authorities?”

Ichigo shook his head again, and gave up trying to make sense of it all, and handed the card over for Renji to read for himself.

“He’s offering me a job.”

[what-a-mystic-mess]

Hello~ I love your all of your HC SOOO MUCH! So if you could make me one I'd be so happy~ RFA+Saeran react to MC who is still in school and one of her smexy teachers is flirting with her and has her pinned and the RFA member or Saeran sees this. Ty sm!

Hi there Anon! Thank you for loving my work and when I saw your request I got SO EXCITED! I got a bit carried away and this is pretty long so get ready.

May be a slight trigger warning (Sexual Harrassment) so it’ll be under the cut :)

Yoosung

You and Yoosung both finally got out of your last classes for today but you needed to see one of your professors before you left campus

You needed to discuss the grade he gave you for one of the tests you took last week

As you told your boyfriend to wait for you outside the door he questioned why he couldn’t go in with you

“I’ll be out in 5 minutes, you can come in if I’m not out by then”

He pouted and nodded his head and you gave him a small smile and walked into the room

The reason why you didn’t want Yoosung to come into the room with you is because you were afraid of his reaction to your teacher

You weren’t going to lie he was VERY good looking but no one could compare to Yoosung

Your professor was straight out of college and he just got the job not too long ago

Every girl had a crush on him

As you walked towards your teacher you asked him about if he could possibly change your grade because you don’t think you deserved the grade he gave you

Until when he struck

“If you want me to change your grade…you could pay be back with your body”

He pinned you down onto his desk and his grip was strong so you couldn’t squirm out

Yoosung was outside getting pretty nervous he counted it was 8 minutes since you were with him

He had enough of waiting and he came into the room to see what was taking you so long

HE WAS SHOOK

He learned a lot from playing LOLOL constantly and you’re pretty sure he did one of his character’s moves when he threw the teacher off of you

He dragged you out of the classroom and checked you to see if he hurt you

You were definitely going to repay Yoosung for saving you ;)

Zen

You were at your University to ask your professor if you could drop out of his class because you weren’t enjoying it

Yes, you admit he was very good looking (not as much as Zen) and he basically flirted with all the girls

Zen tagged along with you because he wanted to protect you

You never told Zen about how good looking your professor is because he would get crazy jealous

You asked Zen if he could stay in front of the door and wait

He tries to convince you to let him in with you

You refuse

You kissed him on the cheek and you made your way into the classroom prepared for what you’re going to say to your teacher

When you asked the teacher about it there was a glint in his eyes and next thing you knew you were being pinned down on his desk

“No one ever drops out of my class before I get them first”

He started leaving hickeys on your neck and you couldn’t get away from his grip

Tears were starting to sting your eyes and you saw Zen’s glare from the window outside

Zen bolted inside punching your teachers face and grabbing you and leading you into the hallway

His eyes were starting to get glossy when he saw the marks your old professor left on you

“I’ll get the best foundation to get them covered up for you”

He went to the Dean’s office and forced him to let you drop out of the class

He never let you go for the rest of the day

Jaehee

Jumin let Jaehee off of work early so she decided that she would surprise you for your last class of the day

When the bell rang you got up from your seat and started packing your things

You were usually the last one leaving the class room so your teacher had no worry to grab you when you started heading for the door

He started flirting with you and saying very nasty things about what he always wanted to do to you

He pinned you down onto one of the tables in his class and you couldn’t escape because you were weak against his grip

You would say that we was sexy but since you were Gayhee for Baehee Jaehee you weren’t really interested

Lucky for Jaehee she got to your classroom on time and when she saw what was happening she RAN

JAEHEE WAS RUNNING IN HEELS EVERYBODY

She started doing all these judo moves on this guy and you were just sitting there holding your wrists from how hard he grabbed you

She kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine before she led you out and took you back home

When you got there she ran you a warm bath and you two cuddled in it

Jumin

For your last class of the day you were sitting next to Yoosung not paying any attention

When the class finally ended you were packing up your things getting ready to leave with Yoosung

But that’s when your teacher stopped you

“MC, can you stay after class I need to discuss something with you”

You told Yoosung you’d meet him outside the classroom in 5 minutes

When everybody left the classroom your teacher swiftly walked towards the door and locked it

You were getting very nervous

What was he going to do with you?

He grabbed your waist roughly and pinned you down onto his desk

When you didn’t come out in 5 minutes like you promised Yoosung started to worry

He peeked into the window that let you see into the classroom and he couldn’t believe his eyes

He tried getting in but realized the door was locked so he called your significant other Jumin

When Jumin got the news from Yoosung he bolted from his office saying it was an emergency and ordered the strongest bodyguards he has

When he got to your room he made the bodyguards break down the door

Yoosung was starting to cry because he felt so bad that he just didn’t stay inside the room

When the door was finally beaten down the guards grabbed your teacher and pinned him down to the floor

Jumin carried you bridal style to his limo thanking Yoosung for calling him and waiting for MC

Your buddy Yoosung is getting some new LOLOL merch soon

Jumin was going to prove tonight that you were his and only his ;)

707/Saeyoung

When you were at university he hacked into the schools cameras to keep an eye out on you

He looked at the screen every 1.07 seconds instead of 2.35 seconds when you were in Rika’s apartment

He got sucked into work and he forgot to check the camera for about 10 minutes and when he looked back up you were being pinned down on a desk and the teacher very close to your face

He pressed the record button on his computer and then rushed over to you university in one of his babies

When he got there he kicked him straight in the dick

Your teacher groaned in pain and grabbed his crotch letting go of you

Just then the Dean came barging into the room and went over to Seven asking him what happened

Seven showed them the video evidence of the professor touching you inappropriately and saying very disgusting stuff to you

Seven kissed you quickly and walked you out of the building

Your teacher was fired for sexual harassment towards a student

Seven also did a background check on him and found out he sexually abused multiple women

How did he even get that job?

Of course he couldn’t forget to hack into his social media and ruin everything changing his passwords and posting about all the stuff he did

And erased all the data off of his phone

DEFENDER OF JUSTICE 707 SAVES THE DAY ONCE AGAIN

Saeran

He wasn’t going to admit it but when you left the bunker he got very lonely without you there

He actually was hanging out with his brother when you were gone he was that lonely

When he was sitting in his brothers bunker eating ice cream watching the CCTV that he made Seven hack into so he could watch you he noticed something a bit odd

When the teacher pinned you down and was touching you nastily he threw his ice cream bowl across the room

Seven was scared by the sound and looked at the CCTV to see what was up

Saeran rushed out of the house and ran full speed towards the university

Seven was now ignoring work and was sitting back enjoying the drama he was about to witness

He also was hacking into all the teacher’s stuff

And sending the live feed to the Dean so he could see what was happening

When Saeran got there he punched the man straight in the head and started beating him up badly

The school security guards came into the room and threw Saeran off of the teacher to take care of the teacher themselves

Saeran kissed you hard and carried you out of the room and straight home

He shared a big bowl of ice cream

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOT TAKING ANY REQUESTS - CURRENTLY HAVE 11 REQUESTS

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger imagine #mystic messenger imagines #mystic messenger scenario #mystic messenger scenarios #mystic messenger oneshot #mystic messenger oneshots #mystic messenger reaction #mystic messenger reactions #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messenger headcanons #Yoosung kim #zen hyun ryu #hyun ryu #Jaehee kang #Jumin han #Saeyoung choi #707 #luciel choi #saeran choi #unknown

[vaentae]

title: Stigma in Heart. genre: Angst, Harem, Romance, Slice of Life. fandom: Mystic Messenger.  summary: Park Sumi received a written letter for her to join a club. It was a suspicious letter, and yet, Sumi met up with the club’s President to reject the offer. Five boys and one girl in one suspicious club. The club’s purpose was so bizarre---it left Sumi speechless and decided to rethink her rejection.  note: yes---! this is it. i’m almost done on revising and fixing a few things...! soon, you can read the full stories. i’m still having second thoughts so i might start changing the plot... well it depends on the situation. here’s the character introduction... just to satisfy you guys lol ENJOY!

characters: 

RFA---

V

Real name: Kim Jihyun/Jihyun Kim. 

Alias: V

Leader of the club: RFA. 

Childhood best friend of Jumin. 

Third year student---Jumin’s classmate. 

Rarely on their club, yet checks on them through Seven and Jumin secretly. 

Has a surprisingly soft spot for Jaehee. 

”She had been working a lot, and she had been under pressure.” --- V about Jaehee.

Usually at the rooftop, taking a bunch of photos. 

Ex-lover of Rika, founder of their club. 

Jumin 

Real name: Han Jumin/Jumin Han.

Alias: Trust Fund Kid (called by Zen) 

Second in command in the club. 

Well-known as the vice president as V is the president.

Third year student; same class with V. 

Bring his pet cat in their club. 

V is the one who gave her a name: Elizabeth the 3rd. 

Hated how Seven shorten her name. 

Their family owns the school. 

Also the treasurer of the club. 

Surprisingly popular among the girls. 

Class President of the school. 

Zen

Real name: Ryu Hyun/Hyun Ryu. 

Alias: Zen, Beautiful man (called himself that), white beauty, Elly (called by Yoosung and Seven)

Second year student. 

Very popular. 

A freelancer model. 

He’s also a member of the choir and theater. 

Position in the club---as Jumin stated---the Mascot. 

Has narcissism and likes to flirt, especially towards Sumi. 

Jaehee 

Real name: Kang Jaehee/Jaehee Kang. 

Alias: Workaholic Jaehee (called by V) 

The secretary of the club. 

Second year student: advance classes. 

Speaks very formally, even calls Jumin with his last name. 

Vice President of the school. 

A black belt judo graduate back in middle school.

She doesn’t like cats because of the cat’s hair. 

Idolized Zen very much that she started to influence Sumi as well.

She’s very protective towards Sumi. 

Yoosung

Real name: Kim Yoosung/Yoosung Kim. 

Alias: Shooting Star (username from his LOLOL, and everything else), YS (called by Zen and Seven)

First year student. 

In the gaming and barista club. 

Because of Rika, he joined RFA. 

Addicted to games, especially on LOLOL.

Same class with Seven and Sumi.

Only acts cute towards Sumi. 

707

Baptismal name: Choi Luciel/Luciel Choi. 

Alias: Seven (wants to be called by), 707 (username he usually use and Zen calls him), God Seven (called by himself), and Luciel (called by Jumin, Jaehee, and V) 

First year student. 

Same class with Sumi and Yoosung. 

Same reason with Yoosung why he joined RFA.

He got a bunch of secret place that he use whenever he skips class. 

Expert when it comes to insulting others---though, indirectly.

Loves Honey Buddha chips and Doctor Pepper. 

MC

Real name: Park Sumi/Sumi Park. 

Alias: Babe (called by Zen), Sumi-Sumi (called by Seven), Park-ssi (called by Jaehee and Jumin), MC (called by Seven) 

First year student. 

Newest member of the club. 

Likes to study. 

Always gets beaten by Seven when the latter decided to study. 

Has an older brother who lives in Europe. 

Met Rika once and helped her, but she doesn’t remember her anymore.

The female mascot of the club. 

Ex-member/s---

Rika

Real name: Unknown. 

Currently missing in action--- as V stated. 

Yoosung’s cousin.

V’s ex-lover.

Supposedly a third year, same with Jumin and V. 

She’s the founder of RFA. 

Others---

Unknown

Real name: ???

Alias: Haneul, Unknown. 

He goes to a different school. 

Good terms with Sumi. 

Helps Sumi the most. 

??? 

Vanderwood. 

Real name: Unknown. 

Alias: Mary Vanderwood 3rd (called by Seven) 

Seven’s friend in and out of school. 

Had the same job as Seven. 

Gender unknown. 

Elizabeth the 3rd 

Real name: Elizabeth the 3rd. 

Alias: Elly (called by Seven), that cat (called by Zen) 

Member of RFA... as Jumin stated.

Likes being brushed by Jumin.

#what do you think guys?? #i took some of their canon facts... turned it a bit lol #mystic messenger #type: text #jumin han #han jumin #mc #707 #luciel choi #choi saeyoung #seven zero seven #kim yoosung #yoosung kim #zen #hyun ryu #ryu hyun #choi saeran #saeran choi #kim jihyun #jihyun kim #mary vanderwood 3rd #elizabeth the 3rd #jaehee kang #kang jaehee #rika #mystic messenger zen #mystic messenger jaehee #mystic messenger jumin #mystic messenger yoosung #mystic messenger 707

[flauntpage]

Wushu Watch: Dojo Storming for a Better Tomorrow

Style-versus-style remains one of the most attractive promises in combat sports. For some reason nothing is more interesting to the casual observer than fights that supposedly prove the superiority of one fighting style over another. Boxing versus MMA, karate versus kung fu, wrestling versus judo—you name it, someone has booked it and marketed it. Even in the modern UFC 'striker versus grappler' is still a compelling match up, despite training daily with top tier Brazilian Jiu Jitsu practitioners, Khabib Nurmagomedov can get people talking about 'sambo versus jiu jitsu', and of course fictional news about Conor McGregor versus Floyd Mayweather makes the headlines in publications that should know better every couple of weeks.

The dojo storming is a proud and silly tradition in style-versus-style debates, not just true styles but even sub styles of the same martial arts. For every Gracie family or Kano Jiu Jitsu dojo storming where an important and overlooked principle of combat is proven, there are a hundred that are just stupid beyond words. For examples of sublimely ridiculous dojo wars one need only read about the life of Count Juan Raphael Dante. Count Dante (who predictably was not a Count or Spanish) had various run ins with the Chicago Cobra Kai, supposedly had a friend murdered in a dojo storming, and was caught strapping dynamite caps to a rival dojo in 1965. When he died of a bleeding ulcer at just 36-years-old, Dim Mak rumours started flying.

For an example of the kind of disgusting, pig-headed stupidity that can be involved in this almost tribal dojo storming stuff you need only look up the footage of the Bobby J. Blythe incident wherein a mentally retarded man was supposedly beaten to death. The 'supposedly' is because conflicting stories have been drummed up in the aftermath, but you can readily watch the man have his head stomped into the floor on camera and be dragged out leaving a trail of blood after already verbally yielding long before. Video of the incident is available all over the Internet but as a fair warning: it is revolting and watching it will ruin your day. It is hard to find information about the aftermath but it seems as though nothing ever came of the video evidence of what seems to be at the least grievous bodily harm or even attempted murder.

Xu Xiaodong vs. Wei Lei

Style versus style challenge matches are back in the news this week as a retired MMA fighter named Xu Xiaodong met a Taichi master named Wei Lei in Chengdu for the honour of Chinese martial arts. Wei Lei was apparently the hot thing in Taichi since appearing on a Chinese documentary demonstrating chi-based magic tricks such as using a force field of chi to prevent a bird from leaving his hand. In the kung fu canon of street magic—and it is a grand tradition with an interesting history—that was a new one for this writer. As magical feats go it was also kind of underwhelming.

Apparently the populace believed it though, and why wouldn't they? Fighting is hard to appreciate and magic is not. The legendary Mas Oyama built his reputation on magic tricks and feats he learned as a performing strong man more than his actual fighting ability. It is well worth reading Jon Bluming's account of his time with Oyama and the many methods of 'monkey business' that Oyama used. The footage of Mas Oyama wrestling a bull seems remarkable but there is something off about it that you just can't put your finger on. Then you realize that it is just an old, dying ox that they then hit in the horn with a hammer until it was hanging so that Oyama could karate chop it off. This explains why the 'bull' at no point fights back and just wants to be left alone, and the video becomes a lot sadder. But that one piece of theatre on film was evidence enough that you will now regularly hear the story of how Oyama fought and killed almost thirty bulls with his bare hands in his lifetime.

Xu Xiaodong was apparently largely self-taught which is believable because mixed martial arts is still in its infancy in China. And doubly believable when you see that even against Wei Lei, who clearly has no clue how to carry himself, he runs straight past the Taichi master as the latter pivots off line by accidental instinct.

However, Xiaodong followed up with his running, lunging strikes and easily put Wei Lei down, following up with strikes on the ground for an easy knockout to a stunned silence from the crowd. The impetus for the fight was Xiaodong calling Chinese martial arts outdated and fake, and the results certainly helped his case. Now he is public enemy number one to the Chinese martial arts community and is attempting to hustle together money fights with professional boxers and the bodyguards of millionaires. One Chinese soft drink magnate has just offered a two million dollar bounty to any kung fu stylist who can beat Xiaodong, missing the point entirely by treating Xiaodong himself as the problem. Xiadong is not the problem and in fact he is completely unremarkable as a fighter. Beating him does not restore the honour of Chinese martial arts to anyone with an ounce of common sense. Xiaodong's victory over Wei Lei should instead be seen as a symptom of a focus on mysticism and a fear of actual feedback within the Chinese martial arts world.

Aliveness

Xu Xiaodong wasn't born a better fighter than Wei Lei or any other Chinese martial arts master. He became a better fighter by fighting, and that is the part that so many traditional martial arts purists struggle to deal with. A blacksmith learns to make horseshoes by making a thousand rubbish horseshoes. An artist learns to draw by trying his best a thousand times and producing nothing but fractionally improving garbage. Why would fighting be any different? You don't have to take professional fights to get better at fighting, but you do have to struggle against the will of other people regularly. This so called 'aliveness' in training is what makes people better and prepares people for the worst. But Wei Lei had a set idea of what he was going to do coming in and so did the famous kiai-jutsu master who was easily drubbed in a challenge match a few years back:

I don't know much about Xu Xiaodong or the fighter from the above clip, but I can guarantee you that they spent their first grappling session being smashed, their first boxing session unable to touch their opponent, and their first kickboxing session getting kicked in the leg whenever they had just missed a kick of their own. That is the real value of 'aliveness' in training, it prepares you for the absolute worst and builds you from the ground up. Dominick Cruz goes into a fight looking to stay off the fence, but he knows what to do if and when he gets there. A kiai master finds out that he cannot paralyze his opponent with his shout in the opening seconds and then what is there? When the opening gambit fails for a man who has been repeatedly promised that his non-fighting training will making him unbeatable in a fight, it undermines ten to twenty years of belief he has placed in magic. What would be a minor setback becomes an all-out crisis of faith. But when something goes wrong for someone who trains with people better than him, day in and day out, it is just a mild inconvenience that necessitates a quick tactical adjustment. In the aftermath of the Wei Lei – Xu Xiaodong 'superfight', Lei is apparently claiming that he held back his true internal strength for fear of killing Xiaodong. We can only hope that this is an embarrassing attempt to save face and not something that Wei Lei actually tells himself to rationalize his inability to fight.

But that is the real shame about challenge matches like these, and the reason it can be hard to get joy out of them. Real charlatans don't agree to challenge matches publicly and invite the press along. Men claiming to have the death touch or the 'answer' to MMA are a dime a dozen, but you won't see many backed into the corner of actually proving it. When a no touch knockout master fails to make someone fall down in a careful demonstration, there are zero repercussions with the believers—maybe he had a bad lunch or something. But the fact that Wei Lei and the kiaijutsu master actually drummed up the interest, set the date and turned up to prove their art suggests that they aren't knowingly running a scam and stealing people's money for techniques that don't work. It means that they themselves actually believe in what someone else sold them. When you look at it like that it is hard not to feel bad for these men.

Dojo Storming for the Better

Style-versus-style fights have served their purpose. While James Toney versus Randy Couture in the UFC and Conor McGregor versus Floyd Mayweather in a boxing ring will tell the experienced fan or practitioner nothing at all about their 'styles', there have been style-versus-style fights that change the way we practice martial arts. When Jigoro Kano was advocating a style of jiu jitsu which abandoned more dangerous techniques in order to allow more free sparring or ' randori', he and his students were able to prove not the superiority of Kano's 'style', but the superiority of his practice methods and philosophy. When the Gracie's were storming dojos and winning vale tudo tournaments the lesson learned was not really that 'Gracie Jiu Jitsu' is the best martial art, but that ground fighting is an enormously important and undervalued element of fighting generally.

Wushu Watch: Dojo Storming for a Better TomorrowOn the other hand, however, it is a good thing that these campaigns were not entirely successful. There were plenty of taekwondo or karate practitioners who saw the Gracies In Action tapes and quit their art thinking it was useless in a real fight because at the time it seemed to be the truth. In the modern era techniques and principles from karate, taekwondo, and a dozen other arts are changing fights at the highest levels of MMA. The absorbing of ideas and testing them is what makes a martial artist, not whose flag or gi patch he's sporting. Certainly there is value in examining the old if only for the inspiration it provides. Studying classical forms and texts is an excellent past time for the bored or injured martial artist. The old Chinese text The Bubishi contains some remarkably solid ideas about fighting and self-defence, but also contains a heap of disproven nonsense about the death touch, chi meridians, and alchemy. Who knows, maybe one day chi will be proven to exist and effectively weaponized—but no one is going to do it without testing it day in and day out against resisting, competent sparring partners. Whether someone believes in chi balls or not is relatively unimportant: the fact that there are apparently still hordes of angry Chinese martial artists who believe they can fight without meeting an ounce of resistance or adversity in the gym is extremely disappointing.

Wushu Watch: Dojo Storming for a Better Tomorrow published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv