Fifth Floor Common Room, Sunday Morning

[swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com]

It wouldn't be the first time Dolf surfed the TV channels in the common room; he'd gotten over the shock of being reintroduced to audiovisual stuff pretty quickly. It was the lack of familiarity of the channels that still threw him, at this point, and he was determined to do something about that.

It might be a case of a very small victory, but it was something, and kept him from feeling like he had to relearn everything.

Still, he had to admit he was very, very relieved to find that, given enough presses of the next channel button, Eurosport finally appeared. Sure, it wasn't football but the Vuelta, but it was still strangely comforting.

[[ open! ]]

The Gym, Sunday afternoon

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

His studies were going well, he was getting some weapons to fill his new utility belt with, and he was even putting together the facade of a social life. But the most important thing to Bruce was making sure that he didn't miss out on any of his physical training. And that meant spending some time in the gym, punching the crap out of a punching bag for a couple hours. He would periodically stop, switch to a different form, and continue punching the crap out of the bag. The fresher he kept himself with the various forms - and the closer he brought them together in his training - he was starting to get a feel for how the different martial arts he had learn could be best blended together into something unique.

But, really, to an untrained observer it probably looked like he was punching stuff over and over for the hell of it. And if anyone asked, that's probably what he would claim he was doing.

[OOC: I'm bored. Hence, open post!]