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True Grave
Make The Wrong Things Right
- Joined
- Jun 30, 2010
- Location
- Where The Fight Takes Me
Brandon Wolf was a young man in prime shape, owing his powerful physique to how relentlessly he trained in his chosen martial art, Kyokushin Karate. Starting at the age of five, he had fallen in love with the art and was a master of the style now at age 21 after years of dedication, not an easy feat in a style where the practitioners constantly work to improve their endurance. He stood at 6'2", his body muscular and athletic in the functional way preferred by martial artists over bodybuilders. His hair was black, short in the back but wavy. His eyes were an almond brown, deep enough to get lost in and perfectly complimented by his youthful face with boyish good lucks. Brandon was a healthy 205 pounds, having worked hard to turn it all into muscle.
Brandon was at his dojo, Kyokushin Manhattan, preparing for the big all-city Karate tournament that would be starting in two weeks. His dojo was small with a regular class of thirty students and they had never won the all-city tournament. However, Brandon was talented and hungry for skill, a combination that could see him be the first in the dojo's history in the United States to win it. His master, Shozan Hata, was counting on him to do it and had been preparing him and the other four entrants to be ready. Hata was a large Japanese man with very short black hair, a rugged face, and a boisterous personality. His students meant the world to him, and he never stopped trying to push them forward in both their skills and their lives.
Brandon's hands and feet were hard and calloused from years of intense training, hitting sandbags and other hard objects constantly. He could shatter bricks like glass with minimal damage to his hand, and he could take hard hits without flinching thanks to his conditioning. However, he would be up against talented fighters from much bigger ponds, and he would need more than just hard striking and endurance to get to the top. Brandon would have to be focused and confident, not easy to do when he would be up against hundreds of other karatekas all vying for the same spot he was. Getting into the right mindset was crucial, and he was doing everything he could to do it both inside and outside of the dojo. Aside from this mental training, they had been doing kata, a series of steps similar to a dance that helped students learn and sharpen Karate techniques.
Hata's class was composed of mostly men from different age groups, with a couple women training, as well. One of the four other entrants in the tournament was Hailey Jones, who would be competing in the women's division of the tournament. The other three, Mark Jones, her husband, Tim Cassidy, and Clayton Beaumont, were all going to be there representing the Manhattan branch at the tournament. Their biggest challenge would be an American branch of the Kyokushin Tokyo school, run by an old rival of Shozan's, Tatsumi Ryo. This school had produced champions for ten years running, and they were not looking to let go of that spot anytime soon. The Tokyo branch's current favorite to win, Jyohei Matsumoto, had also trained very hard and would not be easy for Brandon to take down in the best of circumstances.
Brandon continued to do his movements, making sure that every move that he did was technically perfect. He could draw the best power out of the best technique, and so he had been working on sharpening his formidable skill. His body glided with each movement, showing excellent form and skill with each move. He had always been talented, and Shozan had worked hard with him to overcome the tendency to not train as hard because of his talent. Combining that talent with hard work had created a fine student, and Shozan was immensely proud of him. Everyone had a tendency to look up to Brandon as Manhattan's best, who was as kind as he was skilled.
However, even Brandon was not without his flaws. Though he trained hard, he was very popular with women and sometimes found himself dating more than training. With the tournament coming up, he had way dialed it back, but his libido was still strong. Seeing a nice ass on a woman made his heart hammer in his chest, and it had taken plenty of discipline over the years to learn how to not chase skirts as much. He had learned to have the women come to him, and even that had been cut back with this big tournament coming off. He had not been intimate with a woman in over a month, and though he was starting to get used to it, it was tough for him sometimes.
They stopped their kata training after a bit to get some water. Brandon waited in line and got a drink before tossing the paper cup in the garbage.
"You're doing great out there, man," Tim said after clapping him on the shoulder.
"Thanks," he replied with a smile.
They returned to their positions and went through the motions again, every student trying to move as one. It was a sight to see, thirty students all moving in the same way across the wooden floor.
After about thirty minutes of this, they were broken up into partners to spar. Brandon was working with Mark, and they were doing some sundome Karate, which meant that they were throwing their punches and kicks at full speed but stopping before they actually struck their opponent. This kind of exercise was done by only the advanced students who had learned proper technique, control, and speed. This kind of training helped increase the speed of their blows, well-needed for the tournament. True masters of sundome could scare their opponents into quitting without even touching them, so just because they would not be hit did not mean that there was nothing to fear. They began with simple techniques and got more complicated, attempting combinations without touching for added challenge.
Meanwhile, other students were sparring with contact, younger and lower-ranking students sparring with older and higher-ranking students. The school was like a family unto itself, everyone pulling together and relying on each other to reach their goals. Shozan watched with pride, happy to see his students doing so well in their training. There was no greater joy in his life then improving the lives of others, and he liked to think that he had done a good job. He stood there, watching every student closely to see if he would need to offer advice on improvement. His focus was distracted all of a sudden by the door opening, and he turned to see a young woman come in.
Brandon was at his dojo, Kyokushin Manhattan, preparing for the big all-city Karate tournament that would be starting in two weeks. His dojo was small with a regular class of thirty students and they had never won the all-city tournament. However, Brandon was talented and hungry for skill, a combination that could see him be the first in the dojo's history in the United States to win it. His master, Shozan Hata, was counting on him to do it and had been preparing him and the other four entrants to be ready. Hata was a large Japanese man with very short black hair, a rugged face, and a boisterous personality. His students meant the world to him, and he never stopped trying to push them forward in both their skills and their lives.
Brandon's hands and feet were hard and calloused from years of intense training, hitting sandbags and other hard objects constantly. He could shatter bricks like glass with minimal damage to his hand, and he could take hard hits without flinching thanks to his conditioning. However, he would be up against talented fighters from much bigger ponds, and he would need more than just hard striking and endurance to get to the top. Brandon would have to be focused and confident, not easy to do when he would be up against hundreds of other karatekas all vying for the same spot he was. Getting into the right mindset was crucial, and he was doing everything he could to do it both inside and outside of the dojo. Aside from this mental training, they had been doing kata, a series of steps similar to a dance that helped students learn and sharpen Karate techniques.
Hata's class was composed of mostly men from different age groups, with a couple women training, as well. One of the four other entrants in the tournament was Hailey Jones, who would be competing in the women's division of the tournament. The other three, Mark Jones, her husband, Tim Cassidy, and Clayton Beaumont, were all going to be there representing the Manhattan branch at the tournament. Their biggest challenge would be an American branch of the Kyokushin Tokyo school, run by an old rival of Shozan's, Tatsumi Ryo. This school had produced champions for ten years running, and they were not looking to let go of that spot anytime soon. The Tokyo branch's current favorite to win, Jyohei Matsumoto, had also trained very hard and would not be easy for Brandon to take down in the best of circumstances.
Brandon continued to do his movements, making sure that every move that he did was technically perfect. He could draw the best power out of the best technique, and so he had been working on sharpening his formidable skill. His body glided with each movement, showing excellent form and skill with each move. He had always been talented, and Shozan had worked hard with him to overcome the tendency to not train as hard because of his talent. Combining that talent with hard work had created a fine student, and Shozan was immensely proud of him. Everyone had a tendency to look up to Brandon as Manhattan's best, who was as kind as he was skilled.
However, even Brandon was not without his flaws. Though he trained hard, he was very popular with women and sometimes found himself dating more than training. With the tournament coming up, he had way dialed it back, but his libido was still strong. Seeing a nice ass on a woman made his heart hammer in his chest, and it had taken plenty of discipline over the years to learn how to not chase skirts as much. He had learned to have the women come to him, and even that had been cut back with this big tournament coming off. He had not been intimate with a woman in over a month, and though he was starting to get used to it, it was tough for him sometimes.
They stopped their kata training after a bit to get some water. Brandon waited in line and got a drink before tossing the paper cup in the garbage.
"You're doing great out there, man," Tim said after clapping him on the shoulder.
"Thanks," he replied with a smile.
They returned to their positions and went through the motions again, every student trying to move as one. It was a sight to see, thirty students all moving in the same way across the wooden floor.
After about thirty minutes of this, they were broken up into partners to spar. Brandon was working with Mark, and they were doing some sundome Karate, which meant that they were throwing their punches and kicks at full speed but stopping before they actually struck their opponent. This kind of exercise was done by only the advanced students who had learned proper technique, control, and speed. This kind of training helped increase the speed of their blows, well-needed for the tournament. True masters of sundome could scare their opponents into quitting without even touching them, so just because they would not be hit did not mean that there was nothing to fear. They began with simple techniques and got more complicated, attempting combinations without touching for added challenge.
Meanwhile, other students were sparring with contact, younger and lower-ranking students sparring with older and higher-ranking students. The school was like a family unto itself, everyone pulling together and relying on each other to reach their goals. Shozan watched with pride, happy to see his students doing so well in their training. There was no greater joy in his life then improving the lives of others, and he liked to think that he had done a good job. He stood there, watching every student closely to see if he would need to offer advice on improvement. His focus was distracted all of a sudden by the door opening, and he turned to see a young woman come in.
