"Damn kid, calm dow-" another creak, a shiver shooting up my spine. A hand reached out instinctively, bracing the kid's shoulder. My focus shifted further back, attempting to decipher from the darkness. Pulling my hand back to my sword, I took a step, tightening my grip. "Stay still, kid."
The back of my neck was on fire, a spike of anxiety having shot down my throat. Something's watching us. My breath held quietly, turning my head back and forth, waiting, listening.
An eye blinked into existence.
Another followed, then another; five bright lights of eyes peered back, various pupils spinning, darting, doing something. The fear in my spine was paralyzing, a heavy foot starting to slide back. "What the fu-"
"hHhhhhh......" Another shiver. "Is.... Is it trying to talk?"
My eyes began to adjust to the light, recognizing that the thing had no body. Legs, arms, face, all gone; a mass that clung to the ceiling. If I struggled, I could imagine where a mouth might go, but stepping any closer was going to be impossible. As my vision began to flicker, I exhaled, breathing in with a short cough. Breathe, breathe. Nothing's happened yet.
A fist slammed down, followed by another, and another, and anotherererererererererererer- The man's voice drenched in spittle, almost turning to words as liquid filled the air. At first, they started slow, clumsy, easily readable, even by my standards. But something seemed to switch on in those dull, lifeless eyes.
A missed hit? Faster. Stronger. The next few punches started to spray up sand in geysers, several of the crowd finding themselves 'drenched'. Another roar of raw, undiluted rage and - did he get faster? Another swipe of his arm, this one grazing Makoto's clothes, a tear against her sleeve. A snort in seemingly glee, followed by another yell.
"I have no idea how he's doing that." A thought formed, held quietly under my breath. Normally, when someone is holding back, you could kind of tell. Punches weren't given their full force, steps weren't as big as they could be, it was subtle, but noticeable. The man, beast, thing was giving it his all. Each punch from the beginning was at his full strength, nothing left to give.
My usual squint tightened, peering into the arena best I could. "There's no way that thing can use jutsu, is there?"
Makoto Inuzuka | 197 words | what doesn't kill me makes me -
More of the same cutesy crap. I'm gonna have to beat the shit out of this guy if he keeps this up. an inner monologue started to form, brushed away with a shake of my head. Let's go ahead and get this done with.
Sliding open a door, I was met with a shopkeeper and his two assistants. A faint glance at the shelving showed an array of various pottery, some cooking utensils... My gaze slid back, noticing the massive kiln that branched upwards into chimneys. "Excuse me, how do I get to your roof?" the door closed behind me, a finger pointing to the sky - my other hand held on my sword.
A nervous look between the two assistants, but the shopkeep replied curtly, even confidently. "Ladder out back. You're welcome to it, but don't try anything." A nod to a door tucked against a wall, turning back to his wares before I could reply. A smile followed, nodding to the other two as I made my way outside and up.
The roof was barren, a small set of soot stained footprints showing a few dozen trips from ladder to chimney. Must be how they clean it. My gaze turned outwards, peering down between streets, following the marker of Gauma when I could spot him. A darting movement caused me to spin, eyes wide as I tried to piece together every person and animal moving underneath. That's.... The bakers.
"Go to the bakery!" I yelled down, starting a run back to the ladder. "Tanigakis!" Hopefully he knew where to go; my feet touching the ground as I started to run, aiming to meet my fellow genin there.
The struggling sounds of a man near death, kunai held against his throat in some attempt at interrogation. All echoed against the back of my head, the pull of my blade from skin heavy.
"Pheeeew-" the sound of air slowly pouring from between lips, the ragged thunk of the corpse as my sword dripped, slick with blood and dirt. My legs buckled as I took another step, slumping against a tree. Sweat had formed in places I wasn't sure I had, and a look over my shoulder showed my old cloak to be full of ammunition.
Getting another one of those is going to be a pain in the ass. A faint laugh at the thought, before another sigh. Adrenaline was still raging through my system, but I was starting to feel the nicks and scratches from every branch, twig, and bit of brush I had ran through. A few nicks from stray arrows were more than undoubtedly mixed in, but right now wasn't the time to worry about that.
"Hey, Asura!" I yelled out, not bothering to turn around - the scuffle he made had been more than loud enough. "Find anything good?" the following words lacked bravado, exhaustion plainly slipping into demeanor. Pushing off the tree, I'd begin to lean down, cleaning my weapon on the former archer's clothes. "Mine's not talking much."
But still, I forced a smile.
In the distance, a bear roared.
— asura hyuuga | 236 words | i'll take control of the bear after this
My shoulder stiffened, sheathing the weapon with still white-knuckled grip. Sand continued to pool and shift, obviously some kind of technique he was fucking around with. From the little I knew of the man, this wasn't the usual - so something new.
"Confidence in what?" My voice almost reaching a yell as I stepped forward, a footstep smashing a puddle of sand. "A parlor trick, or with annoying the piss out of me?" my head cocked to the side, Asura's shift in demeanor plainly obvious.
Nutcase. The distance he put between us filled rapidly with sand, some entwining to seemingly make its way towards me! I'd scoff if it was any less pathetic. A hand raised to slap away the substance, my frown deepening with another step forward. "If you're gonna be a bitch about it, do something better!" this time a barely withheld roar, another draw of the blade.
This one horizontal, a hyper traditional nukitsuke strike at Asura's midsection. Another step forward betrayed the principles of Iaido as I brought the back of the blade to smash up and against the Hyuuga's temple. "Fucking sand?!"
— asura hyuuga | 190 words | "I hAtE sAnD" - anakin pissbaby
"Oh, I didn't know you owned a sword." venom dripping from my response, I nodded back towards the dock. "Got a spare one back at my place, should be good for the basics." a sigh, scratching the nape of my neck. Mom's not home, I hope.
Assuming Nobukatsu would follow, we'd make our way back in to Kirigakure proper, the sun dawdling across the sky before us. A ray of light peeking behind a cloud, brushing quietly against my face, the smell of saltwater distancing as we crossed the threshold.
It was a fairly 'adequate' estate, as my father had put it. A one story building with a sizeable chunk of land, although the yard had been largely reclaimed by a small militia of felines. Somewhere between the number of fifteen and thirty, by my last count. That was a while ago, though. "Wait out here for a second, yeah?" I turned towards Nobukatsu, pointing sideways at the cats. "They'll keep you company while you wait." a half cocked grin.
It'd take a few minutes once I was inside, digging through various drawers that hadn't been opened in... Wait, how long? I started with the tachi a few months back, but... Nah, it hasn't been that long. Even if it was a lie, I'd convince myself as I pulled out my old wakizashi, dusting it off in whatever stray sun I could get in the cramped space. A crack in my back as I stood, heading back to the other genin.
A short throw of the sheathed sword as I nodded towards him. "Ta-dah! It's not pretty, but it'll work." If, more of when; he unsheathed the sword, it would shine plainly against sunlight. Markedly boring, the only distinguishing signs of wear were several small chipped sections near the hilt. "No idea how sharp it is, though."
Makoto's appearance to the ring was understated, with only the bouncer taking notice. A nod of his head, turning to face the crowd as he massaged his throat.
Another man, this one somehow the inverse of the bouncer, came skittering up to the Inuzuka, a rash smile revealing a mouth of solid gold. The nervous clatter of his metallic teeth sounded before his voice did, like scribbles on wall. "We would like to remindyou, of noweapons, partners, executions, or anyblows thatwould dismember orotherwise kill theopponent."
Before the woman could reply, he'd disappear, the resounding boom of the bouncer's voice once again sounding. "ON THE RING TONIGHT, WE HAVE A RETURNING STAR, YOU KNOW HIM WELL -" a lone holler of excitement, the bouncer's bravado all but lost on the crowd, "-SASUKE WATASHIANI!"
Across the ring from Makoto, a rather wide man emerged, two hammerlike fists swinging in excitement, although he appeared to be too dumb to make a resounding speech. What came out sounding closer to diaherrea than speech - "HOOOOOOOOAGH!!" Slamming them forward, the freak man stared at the woman, one word somehow forming on its lips. "brothwer."
"Where the fuck do they get these guys?" I muttered to myself, watching from the crowd. The bouncer continued himself, raising an arm towards Makoto.
"A NEW FIGHTER ON THE OTHER! WHO WILL WIN TONIGHT!?" A hand flew downwards, and the fight would begin.
The house was... Hm. I visibly frowned, turning my head to the sky for a moment. The sun was bright, pouring out the cries of midday. Yet the wood, the earth, every inch of the building was... Dark.
The hell am I looking at? Elongated shadows seeped in between the spaces that light was supposed to shine, the smell of mildew noticeable, even at our distance. A frown that twisted into a scowl, only to produce a crude, long whistle.
"Alright, man. You really weren't kidding, were you?" The chill down my spine was... Indescribable. This must be what Kuragari is like... Too late to turn back now. A slight swallow, as I stepped toward the house, nervousness lost behind closed eyes.
The interior did not fair well.
Furniture in various states of decomposition, more than one small skeleton littered the floor. Moss and fungus lined the spaces between floorboards, the faintest outline of what used to be a rug left nearby. Some light did manage to filter in, swirling up the smallest dust mote with each step. "Man," my nose high pitched, with a hand to clamp my nostrils.
Blood splattered against my face, the sudden warmth almost causing me to flinch. My hand tightened around the man's clothes, forcing him forward as a barrier. Fuck it's wo-
"Shit-" Asura's body slammed into mine, my hand wrenching free as I was pushed out and away from my victim. Out of the corner of my periphery I could see the arrow fly, and the faint boom as a section of the corpses chest exploded. Asura's words went unheard, my attention having been turned to the bastard with an exploding arrow.
Getting back off my ass was clumsier than I wanted - a side glance and a yell at Asura announcing what little bit of a plan was rolling around my head. "You take the other one, I'll get this asshole!" Re-sheathing my sword as I started to move, barely managing to dodge another arrow as I did. Sweat rolled on the back of my neck, twisting and spinning my weight behind counter however I could.
Truth be told, even fighting for this long was exhausting. Breathing was getting harder, and Asura's divebomb hadn't been much help. But if there's only three, we can do this. Both hands now, gripping my sword and sheath, shoulders starting to shiver. Behind a tree, I took one more breath, slipping out and at the assailant with another strike, aimed firmly to cut him from his balls to chin.
Keeping this up was gonna make me pass out at this rate.
The Quiet Storm [Wind Release | Rookie] Making a breakthrough with ninjutsu has left Nomura in the possession of his first elemental release, Wind. With a string of handseals, he can produce small wind projectiles from his mouth, and aims to be able to adhere his chakra to weapons, without much success.
Benkei Style Iai [Kenjutsu | Apprentice] Originally trained in classical Iaido, Nomura has incorporated a unique way of footwork that bucks and rotates the entirety of the user's lower body. Comparable to a drunken sailor's wobbling, he claims the inspiration came from his former master's drunken swagger. Still figuring the direction and applications of the newly focused movements, he finds it difficult to land killing blows with the blade, often slipping his guard in inopportune positions.
↳ Iai-Tachi [Weapon] A soshu forged sword with standard curve and appearance, it has no benefit aside from being solidly average quality. The belt that the sheath connects to his belt has a slightly shifted loop, letting it swing in either direction on his hip.
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Benkei Style Iai [Kenjutsu | Journeyman] Originally trained in classical Iaido, Nomura has incorporated a unique way of footwork that bucks and rotates the entirety of the user's lower body. Comparable to a drunken sailor's wobbling, he claims the inspiration came from his former master's drunken swagger. Having a fair understanding of his own movements and those of his opponents, he can attack from a variety of unusual angles with a devastating initial power. Followup strikes lack the same strength, an Iai slash providing the main offensive brunt of his style. Capable of slipping into blind spots, his blows are difficult to read.
↳ Iai-Tachi [Weapon] A well-used soshu forged sword with standard curve and appearance, it has been battered into familiarity. Once a slightly above average blade has been sharpened and reformed, granting it extra cutting power. With a unique belt loop, the sword's sheath can be maneuvered freely, creating unique angles for Iaido related strikes.
Last Edit: Sept 23, 2021 19:18:13 GMT by Nomura Benkei
Judo [Taijutsu | Rookie] Nomura has some basic judo training, capable of preforming a throw or two while unarmed. Mainly for use when disarmed, he has no way of utilizing it offensively, exclusively a defensive tool.
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Judo [Taijutsu | Apprentice] Nomura has basic judo training, capable of preforming a general selection of throws. Mainly for use when disarmed, he has begun developing a method to perform more offensive throws, forcibly opening opponent's defenses if timed correctly. His throws are still largely unrefined, making them difficult to see the full payoff of.
Last Edit: Sept 23, 2021 19:10:22 GMT by Nomura Benkei
With my back turned, the Hyuga continued to prattle on. 'Worry this' 'Worry that'; mimed words help under my breath, mocking with the open and close of a hand. There wasn't going to be a compelling enough argument the man could pull out of his ass, I didn't -
Sand? One of the weight bags had burst, a piddling spray of sand across the tome interrupting my thought. A flare of anger shot up from the recesses of my gut, a deep, long breath helping to quiet it. Yet the pinch of my finger on the page, the tightness in my neck, it wouldn't go away. A curse under my breath, faint murmurs that the other wouldn't hear; turned quick into a single outburst.
"Alright, fine!" I yelled, a deep frown creasing the corner of my mouth. A hand joined with the hilt of my blade, exhaling heavily as I turned to face him. My other hand slowly reached for the sheath, a furrowed brow being the only glare the man'd receive. "You're overestimating yourself."
Heaven and dragons, so this...
My left knee bucked, weaving the motion forward as my body collapsed. The right shot out, darting my movement further as Iachi met with air, a full draw exiting with the movement. The trajectory started towards his legs, rising with an uppercut as my footing and stance realigned itself to standing. If it was successful, Asura would find his face slashed open.
"Of course!" cloyingly sweet in my response, patting the hilt of iaichi. "That, and it makes my dick feel huge!" A laugh followed, nodding towards Nobukatsu and the ocean beyond him.
"If you need a reason other than that, probably whatever one you're using to swing around that stick." A finger would idly point, not that it was overtly noticeable. I realized about halfway through that I knew almost nothing about the guy across from me, whether or not he even knew how you began to train for the sword.
Self-taught swordsmen were always interesting, needed some huge balls to face death without proper training.
"Which is, what, by the way?" I'd continue, leaning my stance back as a hand caressed my chin. "If you want to train, I can help you do better than that dreck." A wave of the hand, dismissing the swings I had seen.
"It's more fun than the little surprise, trust me." A hand extended, reaching out in friendship. "But we're going to have to start with your footwork." Okay, maybe not the most friendship.
The swing of a fist, not once, not twice, but three times. Slammed down in an open palm, reveled into one of three shapes - an ancient, ritualistic game. Mainly originated for designating duties that no one else wanted to do, Rock Paper Scissors - or Janken - was an important part of being a shinobi.
And I fucking ruled at it."Rock, paper, shoot!" The final concussive blow of my hand moved to reveal... Nothing! A rock standing mighty and firm, a pair of scissors erupting from the other genin's hand. My smile cracked a little further, lifting a mock v to my eyebrows as I saluted Gauma.
"Have fun combing the streets." I chimed, not leaving him any space to conject the two-out-of-three I had offered, instead all but running to the nearest rooftop access I saw in my search. Ideally, I'd be able to do something with the birds' eye view, yell down to Gauma in the streets to tell him where I saw the cat. Or something like that; I could just tell him to run around like a moron.
It was going to be a divisive decision, either way.
Gauma Gaojima | 190 words | and i'll whisper down: lmao