<div align="center"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Monday, January 13th - 2:00 PM</strong></span><br/><em>Combat Class (Back Yard)</em></div><hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/39/77/e9/3977e91a128920eba2e559d0e5bf229d.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><strong>WHO:</strong> Marley Ann (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=316749.msg15283294#msg15283294)<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong> Hot outfit (pictured), black sneakers<br/><strong>DOING:</strong> Observing combat like a badass bitch<br/><strong>NOTE:</strong> --<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> Gigi, Combat Class | OPEN<strong>*</strong><br/><strong>*</strong>If in combat with Gigi, PM Crash first. If talking to Marley, post whenever.</span><br/><hr/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;">Marley walked across the back yard carrying three things: a family sized bag of chips, an old boom box, and a large red bean bag. She was wearing a black track suit, black mesh jacket and black sneakers, and, <em>boy</em>, was she ever feeling herself. Somehow she had convinced Gigi to run her combat class, which meant Marley could still <em>appear</em> commanding, without <em>doing</em> any of the work herself. <em>It was glorious.</em> It was so glorious that she almost forgot how funny the sun felt. <br/><br/>If there were other students ready to teach, she would have given them her other classes as well. But most of them had either, <em>sadly</em>, perished in the war, or arrived at the Cathedral only in the last few months. But <em>Gigi</em> was ready. Marley knew the young pixie didn’t particularly like altercations, so she hadn’t given her a ton of time to process that not only would she be <em>attending</em> Monday’s combat class, she would also be <em>teaching</em> it. Gigi had been at the Cathedral for over three years. It was time. Now more than ever, since they were in the middle of a fucking post-Apocalyptic world. Also, the girl could use a confidence boost, especially since what happened with Amanda and most of her other peers during the war. <br/><br/>And nothing boosted <em>Marley’s</em> confidence than reigning over a bunch of sweaty, unhappy youths. She hoped it would be the same for Gigi, but they would soon find out.<br/><br/>“Let me clarify the word <em>hurt</em>,” Marley’s charismatic voice rang through the crowd as she stepped forward, setting the red bean bag chair on the ground to the left of the combat field. She sighed pleasantly, then flopped down into its center, her mesh jacket rolling down to reveal her smooth, soft shoulders. She crossed one covered leg over the other with a small, sly <em>smirk</em>, obviously very content to sit on the sidelines and watch the entire class unveil before her bright blue eyes. “If you <em>overwhelm</em> Gigi, if you <em>traumatize</em> Gigi, if you cause Gigi any <em>undue stress</em> that is <em>not</em> necessary for this combat class, you will fail.” There was a small <em>pop!</em> sound as she opened the family sized bag of chips. “Also, if you piss <em>me</em> off, you will fail <em>and</em> you will be asked to help either Eric or Kaine clean out the Medical Bay or the garage, during the hours of <em>five</em> and <em>nine</em> AM,” she stuck an orange-colored chip in between her red lips, talking her time and crunching on it slowly in the January sunshine.<br/><br/>She slowly moved her gaze from Gigi on her left, and the crowd of participants on her right. <em>This would be very good, indeed.</em> She carefully chewed a second chip, making sure she had everyone’s attention for another long, <em>painful</em> moment. Then she leaned down, and pressed <em>play</em> on the boom box, which sat in the sand at her feet. “Now," Marley’s voice rang out just before an 80’s hip hop beat echoed loudly, "let the games begin." She titled her head at Gigi one last time, before eating another chip. This may have been one of the greatest ideas that Marley had ever fucking had.<br/></span>