[attr="class","APP3"]The two had prevailed, for the time being. The overwhelming pressure of their jointed attack proving far too much for the man, who braved their advances haphazardly the moment he saw it wise to ready his blade, to handle. Yousei had threatened what remained of his mortal coil and Seiichi had sealed his fate with his crippling--and fatal--strike as a lifelessness stood in stead, unblinking, of the fear and shock that wailed in his eyes as the Bear crashed upon him like a predator in tall grases. Having flicked the warm and sticky blood, that doused him and the many merciless blades of his claws, he look over his shoulder. He heard the voice of the woman from behind him though, when he turned to face them, she was no longer the women with a hobbled arm and eyepatch. She matched the slain man in many characteristics, save the wounds that had rend from his body a soul not wizened by his experiences. Whoever they were before they were announced a causality had not mattered, for they were now a spirit, left to witness the exploit of his death as a penance for the cause he fought for. While she may have not been as quick to act as the two Jounin, it seem she intended to express her expertise along the valley of shadows as the true display of skill in her cunning and stealth was to occur.
Seiichi nodded in approval with Yousei's outburst-- the idea was good. Unless these samurai were provided with an ability to look beyond disguises, she was bound to go largely undetected as this fog of war provided her an unsung advantage. Seiichi took this opportunity of respite, as shortly lived as it soon proved to be, to assess the battlefield beneath the scrutiny of well-trained eyes, as mundane as their abilities were when fielded along the gifted. Unless anything in particular stood out to him, it seemed that the Jounin was able to recognize little beyond the carnage he bore witness to while in the confines of their bunker-- curiously, at a time where he could have sworn their group had been larger. Perhaps he was getting older faster than he'd admitted, this last year had been as enlightening as it had been trying.
However, on queue, the glower brought on by his determination to better learn the gnarls and pits of the battlefield they had stood on was interrupted. Off in the distance the thunder of hooves grew louder and louder as their blip of commotion was enough to rouse their suspicion. Their thrum in the distance soon the clap of a thunderous drum as their coordination atop beast was a sure tactic, one to waver the spirit of the uninspired. He'd glanced over to his fellow Jounin, a dainty wisp of a fairy-turned-swordswoman and stole a glance, nodding as they wordlessly assumed their counters. Much like Yousei, Seiichi had adopted an idle stance. With claws previously drawn and equipped, he remained placid on this battlefield as they closed in. It was then, as they crossed a post set by his imagination, that the Kumo no Kuma reacted. With a charge he broke loose, arms extended behind him to offer leverage when they were most needed.
He lept, once again, as they closed in with their coordinated pincers to try and impale the shinobi, the impressive gait of their horses to be far more responsible on the impending damage than the man that braced their javelins. If timed correctly--which Seiichi had all unwavering confidence in that he could--he'd avoided the attempted skewer of large and unwieldly pointy-sticks as his arms caved inward in the expanse of his large wingspan. He had leapt at such a height-- and with such force that a cloud of dust still settled moments after he untethered from the ground--that he could meet them them at the height of their upper abdomens, assailing them with an eviscerating swing each that should have been enough to tear them from the security of their saddles, leaving them to be dragged along the course their horses had been set on or knocked clear off. Seiichi tucked into a roll, lessening his impact on the ground as well as boosting the speed in which he recovered. He'd rise and quickly pivot, moving forward to execute mercy blows should they be needed.
With a plan in mind, he recognized his ambitions and desires had to remain chained. With the duress and scrutiny Tsubaki was now beneath as she trekked into the heart of the battle, anything that could give her away was to come down on her from all sides.
Last Edit: Oct 23, 2021 13:35:24 GMT by Seiichi Koji
[attr="class","APP3"]His ears had found themselves assaulted by the dual brays: one of man and one of beast-- or had he been more beast in the guise of man? Curiously, their voices spilled forth with a red laughter. They spoke during or concluded with a howl, the sort of cackle that worked through the cracks and crevices of even the finest plates of armor to unsettle confidence and strength. Seiichi met the man's daring with a glower, a crease worn taut on his forehead as his thick brows were equipped a furrow. Evacuating now was no option. Nor was it ever. Despite the herald of mayhem his distinct voice became vessel for, this menagerie of forces was bound to collide with them. Had there been no need for them, surely they could have stayed back and never arrived.
But it wasn't the case, not now.
Not now as earth was ejected from the ground it laid upon idly, given a sudden kick from a burst of life. Broad forearms rose in response, neck lowered as shoulders tucked. Assuming this guard assured his face was shielded behind his own wall of muscle and meat. Seiichi was no stranger to this sting, no stranger to the the bite earth as it often grazed along him as a product of his training. Regardless, there was an influence behind these small rocks that made them more of a credible threat should they impact soft tissue. The Inuzuka trio advanced forward in the heat of it all, the coordination of their attack a product of their blood bond and talent. There's was a desperate effort, the Jounin recognizing the toss of caution to the wind as they braced what seemed the final stage.
Seiichi remained on the back foot as his peer and his sisters engaged in a combination of their calculation and fury, though they weren't the only ones to act. The Cloud Jounin inhaled deeply, a practiced breathing technique utilized on the battlefield as a bid to hasten his recovery. The strain of the First Gate was negligible in comparison to the rest, though he ran the risk of remaining sluggish should he neglect respite in these chanced opportunities. Besides, his mind found itself incapable of shaking that warning. While no good nights sleep, he could influence his own recovery with concentration.
For all it was worth, he needed his strength.
Last Edit: Oct 20, 2021 11:23:39 GMT by Seiichi Koji
There's a decrease in mine. I'll be working in earnest to post in the events, but I've been doing a lot of work that's left me with little motivation near the end of the night to do much else.
If we have threads, I appreciate all the patience and look forward to continuing them.
[attr="class","APP3"]Stared, unresponsive for what seemed a pregnant pause.
"Funny."
She was charismatic, if nothing more. The small sliver of a woman braced them, whether she recognized it or not, with the engagement of her bubbly persona; alas, whether it be the ire of the more muted giant behind her was for him to decide. She spoke in a natural way, hers a form of speech that diffused them effortlessly from what chaos had continued to ensue from beyond the confines of their bunker. She was quick to engage each each one of them, shifting between the members of their motely crew. Seiichi had seen her type before: she was destined, come the time, to press beyond the ranks of a jounin and fill into something more. It could said, for the time, she was but a shadow of the women she'd be then. Seiichi would shift mildly to look back, narrowing eyes to scrutinize the shinobi whom donned an oni-mask and fluttery robes before called to attention by a more youthful voice that surrendered his form to something more immaterial on completion of a seal. The jounin thought it an interesting trick as, while still corporal he could only assume a solid blow was bound to phase right through.
It was then that the pleasantries were brought to an end, the reality of battle brought to their doorstep as they were assailed by a man who survived -- but Seiichi was committed in making their miracle last briefly. In an instant the dead-man-walking pumped their bunker with a firework that expelled a clouding miasma of smoke, sure to choke the breath from them if they remained stationary. With a breath drawn in earnest to brace his lungs, the Bear of Kumo pressed forward towards the passage that'd spare them relief from the noxious cloud; his alert ears were wizened to the scrape of a blade. He moved to equip his claws, long and frightening blades affixed on a specially-crafted handle fit for hands as large as trenchers. While no sword, their ample length which scaled the length of his long forearms afforded him comfortable footing against even the most formidable blades.
Alas, the one they braved as they barreled out of the mess of embers and smoke was no such thing. He had been filed behind Yousei and as they reached the end of the passage, Seiichi crouched briefly to make a bounding jump that untethered him wholly from the ground, ripping from the misting cloud like a beast in tall grass. Whether or not their Commander's rending slash had landed, the Kuma no Kumo was prepared to follow her actions up as he descended from the sky like a terror. Having adjusted to dive at the apex of his leap, he barreled forward with a right claw that led forward and the other one prepared to deflect any ground-to-air counter should their wits still be about them. If he was met with minimal or no defense, then the weight of Seiichi, in addition to the speed in which he descended, could see the blades of his claw run through him and force them both to the ground. If successful, he'd withdraw them and flick his wrist to relieve them of their red sheen.
His heart pounded, thrumming wildly in his chest. He was eager to move forward, her rousing speech of teamwork all but evicted.
Last Edit: Oct 16, 2021 7:44:33 GMT by Seiichi Koji
It all felt useless. The thunder of hooves were the rataplan of war on the tautly wound canvas of a drum that would be heard as men exhumed their spirits in cries of terror. Their screams were of agony, spilling from them as their voiceless regret and shame had not fallen deaf on him. Alas, all he could do was take a back seat to their misery as they remained motionless. They had been some hundreds of meters away as they were stowed in a bunker, to remain idle until the proper opportunity was roused amidst the chaos or from the tiers of Yousei's own lips came the order to break out and assail their target. Their unit had been one specially assembled, though to what degree remained ambiguous to the cloud jounin as Möngke only ever got to share more preliminary details. He was at the command of sapling, a sprout in her career as she was still tender in her years -- no less or no more than Mai Aburame who had tended to an unnatural wound earned by the unnatural blade of another. There was acquittance already shared with Möngke and never before had he met the medic of the mists, though her disposition had been palatable.
Seiichi had been apart of many conflicts, his tenure as a shionbi saw it so. Never, however, had he been apart of a covert arrangement. Huddled in a bunker with them was a man who seemed more the echo of a titan than shinobi. He filled the width of their tunnel, donned with a cloak fashioned from the pelt of a bear, body and head, the top of its jaw forming a hood. Long fangs framed Seiichi's face, deadly and fierce, as they scaled the length of temple and ear and further pronounced the lantern jaw beneath a more recently kempt beard; the remainder of his frame was dressed in a gi tattered by attrition and torn at the sleeves, though recently laundried. The man who donned a bear's pelt boasted shoulders that could frame a mountain and arms that rivaled tree trunks, yet he moved with a deftness that betrayed his uncommon proportions. By all accounts he was a natural born shinobi despite his unwieldly frame, moving no more noisily than his dainty comrades.
The weight of his own gaze was added to Yousei's as he peered at their target, a man unlike the countless others who ravaged the land around them in a bid to conquer this zone and further their holds on this land. There was nary an opening in his armor-- or at least an opening that was exposed immediately to his much more mundane eyes over such an impressive distance. The cloud jounin himself convinced that beneath the plates that scintillated fire-light was surely interlinking chains powerful enough to null the finest points of their weapons. Still, despite his forming reservations on the usefulness of bladed weapons, he still had with him a pair of forearm length claws that hung from a hook that had been woven into the obi that tightened the gi above his waist.
His attention was stirred from the mounted man and his small entourage and to Yousei, the small pixie of a woman with cropped tresses of hair no-less lively than those capering flames that sprouted the further Hatori's troops advanced, as she spoke out to them. Despite being young in her years, there was a confidence in her metered voice as she worked to rouse their spirits while avoiding detection. She had a point: if they failed to work together, there was a toll that tragedy would expect them all to pay.
"We need to move," the bluster of his voice was an unfortunate thing, "give your command so I can go."
An order to order. Such was the nature of Seiichi Koji's speech.
Last Edit: Oct 9, 2021 14:05:50 GMT by Seiichi Koji
[attr="class","APP3"]Success had followed a titanic display of strength, though it wasn't to say it was a feat succeeded by his own efforts. It seemed that -- without the help of another and their equally measurable application of skill-- as he hefted that beast into the air in what was a spectacle of power, it may had written the last of his story, the mountainous man reduced to rubble beneath the ungodly mass of the thick-skinned rhino. It was always forward thinking, though, and as Seiichi moved at a slightly more crippled pace, he couldn't help but to commit to himself that he would work harder and that he would not have to rely on the help of another, 'lest he choose to forfeit his life.
Despite the victory that this particular pair of jounin shared in, there's had been one of many that waged on simultaneously. The beasts that had ravaged the lands had, thus far, proven how they accomplished such a task as they remained dauntless in open battle against this menagerie of shinobi forces. Had they arrived in allegiances save their own desires, could they have proven a more functional effort between nations? There had been chaos, dust, growls and roars that made for a cacophony displeasing to the ear as the join effort of these shinobis succeeded in this attrition, turning the tides in their favor.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the case for all as, amidst the chaos and dust that had been stirred laid what remained of a future stolen too soon. Seiichi couldn't see her -- no, not yet, but he couldn't help but wonder what became of Kureiru Uchiha as he spotted the siblings in all out conflict as they coordinated their attacks against the same foe. He was at a distance, still, as he worked through his fatigue and drew deep breaths to find his second wind. With a creasing line line in his forehead and a furrow in his brow, sea-green eyes narrowed in a bid to identify all parties. With a little more effort he could identify Kegawa Inuzuka, Nikukyuu Inuzuka, and Korogaru Inuzuka as well as a Tsubaki Mizuno he had yet met.
"Kegawa," boomed a blustery and familiar voice to the Inuzuka's ears, "Kureiru-- did you evacuate?" He spoke loudly, his voice a stentorian bellow that knew no formality as the shock of hearing it was enough to stir anyone from their trance of battle. He continued to observe his pupil and her sister combine their efforts in a pincer attack that stoked further ire as a burst of chakra--kin to the first which erected pillars from the earth--surged through the earth as if it followed the beast's bellow of praise, as if those words were a herald for the further devastation it sought to bring. Seiichi's approach found itself further scrutinized by his senses as the world before him trembled, tore and quaked as walls were raised in an attempt that seemed to separate them from one another.
In the madness, the jounin moved alongside Korogaru if he could locate her through the fog brought about the raised earth. As he attempted a recovery, he would support her efforts the best he could as he took a turn to try and recover for what dangers remained unseen.
Last Edit: Oct 9, 2021 12:51:59 GMT by Seiichi Koji
What a weird one. The thought crept, funny that it had been born in his mind. Human but with inhuman features-- rather, ones he'd never bared witness to before on a person of flesh and blood. What's that? Yes-- he'd seen her type before, but only upon old and tattered manuscripts of foreign and ancient styles which emphasized the adoption of a beast's nature to comprehend the style in which they fought. A tongue sprung from the thin tiers that were her lips as if it were a party streamer. Had he been anymore genial, the coincidence would have brought a curl to the edge of his lips for it seemed to celebrate the very fact that she'd live to breathe another fresh breath; alas, fresh wasn't the word. No, in fact, his stench had been but a more natural odor that seemed ripe, a befitting stink. "The other day," Seiichi informed her, a question more readily asked by her alarmed expression that her shortly spun sentence. It was sweat, of course, and a lot of it. The way Seiichi saw it was you were working hard or hardly working.
And the jounin only knew how to work hard.
He had dropped and joined her after a moment, that mass of bloated muscle coated in his masculine perfume to lie besides the genin some few feet as he crunched away, curling upright as a puff of air fled him only to be renewed by the time he made it back down. As he was sure to draw breath in the day, he was as sure to find a manner to work out. There was no counting -- not for him, anyway, he only kept track of the girl's crunches. Whether it was a cause of alarm or a sense of belonging, she wouldn't find menacing eyes dissecting her while completed her order. Despite her fatigue, Mahiru proved no slouch when it came to pulling through. It wasn't before long that Seiichi found himself shifting, pressing against the ground as he resumed his towering height. Looking as thickly built as he did tall, it was a wonder if he were more wall than man.
"Seiichi Koji." An answer was delivered on that blustery voice, his words spoken .
The goliath that cast a shadow no less grand than a venerable oak tree was a well-known name in their village of Kumogakure. Seiichi was the jounin that headed the second platoon with a rather unique character about him, but equipped with a personality that expressed itself better in action. "You're Mahiru Kobayashi," he'd tell her in that stentorian bellow, speaking more as if he named her there and then. There was a weight in his gaze -- no, his was a glower as a crease seemed permanently fixed to his forehead and his brows were but a twitch from a furrow. No word would have to come between them for the man to sense her tension, how strained and worn her muscles had felt. It was a feeling he'd none before -- no, it was a state he recogonize.
A state to pierce through ones boundaries and mount echelons of power they could not ever hoped to have known without.
"Another hundred." A clap of thunder.
Had the Fates designed his solidarity in her fatigue to be perceived as something cruel and torturous? His intention was to support her, but a fatigued mind could be a perplexing thing.
"Then one-hundred more after that. You will do this everyday."
Benkei had expressed nothing short of truthfulness when he revealed early on that he'd practiced in judo. Movement along the mat was telling as each second was another chipped away at their fated joining. Where Seiichi moved in quickly in a display of confidence, the genin took a slower approach that proved wise no matter how it had been dissected. It was, without a doubt, safer to observe from a distance instead of rushing into the enemy.
Suddenly, be it confidence in his technique or his incoming form, Benkei began on the offense. The genin countered forward with a strategic foot that granted him balance while his striking leg, the one that he would use to destabilize Seiichi in order to topple him, swung around to pull him over-- he'd allow it instead of powering through with his power, the technique performed in earnest against his giant foe. With the shift of his weight and the suggestion of his direction by way of the tug, the jounin would be pulled to his side and dropped onto his back where he was quick to catch himself with his elbows. It was a loud crash that shook to the the foundation of the building, his impressive bulk that weighted over four-hundred in pounds crashing onto the mat in a controlled fall.
"Two of three," the bear-pelted man suggested while on his back to the young man in the black hakama who surely would have fallen over with him. As if he'd mastered the art of falling, the jounin moved to pick himself up from the floor, moving to his starting position again with no viewable jarring or shock. Benkei, if he hadn't taken the single point and bailed, would be given time to return to his post and posture. After a brief stare down Seiichi began moving once more, feet sliding along the mat as he took steps towards the genin. While he had been no master judoka, he could recognize the sweep and throw from the varied form of mixed martial arts he had practiced in. Not only had it been one that would no longer work again, but he wouldn't give Benkei the final point.
His form drew closer still, allowing his junior an attempt to make the move before he committed to his own. Nomura Benkei
Last Edit: Oct 4, 2021 3:26:35 GMT by Seiichi Koji
[attr="class","APP3"]There was a delicacy to everything. A soft energy to a hard energy. A light to a dark. Any analysis done on a situation could reveal, with discerning eyes, where a balance had lied. There was a value in discovering those balances and understanding them. This took time, however. It was unfortunate that not all things functioned with similar consequence if one leapt with an untamed eagerness. It was a fact that the poor girl above him-- the genin within his platoon --was all too familiar with as she had forgone preliminary work and instead embraced it all gung-ho. There was nothing wrong with this, in theory. Often, the most worth-while benefits were earned with trial and tribulation, all in earnest virtue against attrition that felt insuperable. For a shinobi to posture themselves to such positions required dedication and expected ceilings to be broken through.
However, most had the wit between both ears to know what danger was risked when they should inevitably fail in the face of their task, no mountain being conquerable on the first try. Despite the perilous situation she had found herself in, there was no resentment that the jounin harbored towards the emerald-headed genin-- though, soon to be red-headed or half-headed considering the varied outcomes of her impending fall. It was an amiable trait to go beyond-- in fact, it was a necessary trait if she ever wished to command and vestige of power and call it her very own. However, before all that could occur, one had to reason that the space between her ears was filled with the proper brains to capitalize on her talents.
She was young -- 'new', perhaps a more fitting term. Her 'brains' would come, be their revelation in combat sense or natural wit she'd conjure through her own strides in growth.
Imagining what women her hard work would develop her into was interrupted by a girlish wail that filled the air, the arms and legs of a flailing lizard girl aimlessly swimming through the air as she kicked and punched. Very soon, if he acted no quicker, this would be the greatest form he'd ever witness her in. Wasn't it the case that people, as they mounted their final moments of life and hitched their last desperate breath, found that their life suddenly flashed before their eyes? She lived no normal life, not from what he understood-- was she robbed of this final comfort?
She'd land with a thud, her back to smack hard...
Against a set of hard, powerful arms that seemed to swallow her whole in their mass alone. Despite how jarring the crash may have felt, she'd find that her eyes could eventually open and that her vision wasn't clouded with red. She was a waif compared to her, insignificant in size but no less in purpose. "You can't go 'sssplat'. You haven't trained hard enough," came a set of words that were no less stentorian than the boom that alerted her before, even the rumble of their production could be felt with how close he held her to his chest; curiously, any closer analysis would fine that his words seemed to be some odd marriage of command and expectation. He'd set her down before she became too comfortable with the prospect of being cradled, forcing her to stand to her feet whether she was prepared to or not.
"One-hundred."
No context. But it was a clear order. What would she do?
[attr="class","APP3"]There were pillars that supported this earth. One of those mighty pillars had been consistency. The sun always rose and it always set. The clouds would always collect and it would always rain. The earth spun on its axis and accounted it 'winter' and would turn to call 'spring' elsewhere and eventually swap. There were far more that kept reality as they knew it, at this large scale. Though, that wasn't to say it ended there: there were consistencies of finer machinations as well, ones that had a more personal impact. One always slept. One always woke. One always ate and the most dedicated of all always trained. Rain, sleet or snow they'd know no rest. Exhaustion, injury and even to their final fumes, they would not relent. It was those who strove to achieve a new goal everyday that would outpace their peers, it was those that sacrificed the most that often found fate rewarding them the most.
If they survived.
It had been early into the morning, the last moments of twilight fading as it gave to the dawn of a new day. The manner in which the horizon was crested by a mighty sun was picturesque, something to be read in those first few lines of a good boy. It rose gingerly to greet those who awaited her arrival, showering them with a benevolent warmth. It filtered into the village slowly, beaming great shadows as it struck and rose over low buildings and warmed the backs of the far taller ones. Days were finite in their time, their end known commonly -- but a more dedicated few found ways to optimize those hours. In short, to spend the most time training -- and consistently at that -- was the most profound way of utilizing those limited hours. To do so on a basis that grew from daily, to weekly, to monthly and so on proved an even more successful method. However, the bane of existence to many came in the guise of hard work. It was a consistent thing across generations, a befitting curse.
“H-help…Sssomebody…”
The bear beneath the source of the sorry plight abruptly came to a stop. Even with his mundane, less-than-impressive hearing, there was no discounting the sorrow in their voice as it had been wrung by exhaustion and surely a degree of strain. He looked left. Then right. Then behind and even leaned forward. Eventually -- and to her benefit -- he looked up to see an unlikely sight: it had been a girl -- one of his girls -- that had been hanging way up there! Except, they hadn't met yet. It had been by chance that he looked into a briefing about her, gaining a vague grasp of her unusual origins and the assumption of latent abilities; naturally, it was her dossier that was so unnaturally assembled. Despite his often stony visage, even he struggled to hide the embarrassment for her. While not being a model citizen or one to look onto for manners, he knew well that there were more ideal ways to make first impressions.
"Go on. Fall."
He called to her in his loud voice, birds that had been nesting stirred from their places of sleep as they tucked themselves into the reasonable crannies and nooks. The command was issue, but it wasn't as if he made a promise to catch her.
Nor did he follow up saying he would, after a measure of silence.
Men--drunk--often orchestrated their own fantasies and thus perceived their fabrications as rightful realities from behind a veil of their choosing, filtering what was interpreted beyond. It was a harmless circumstance to some, to escape what plights plagued or dogged them. To others it was dangerous.
Far more dangerous in select situations.
The confidence and precision to place stake on such a gamble would have to match Seiichi's own in his very own, the later being freed of any inhibition as his decisions were often those of a rogue agent. While feelings were fluid and fit their containers as chakra would, strength was an entirely separate concept and was molded by those who wielded it. There was no doubting that a stage of Seiichi's power, in the appropriate context, was entirely insuperable to any less dedicated than himself, even with what purchases innate talents or gifts gave them upon that road. No matter the circumstance, no matter the challenge, there had never been a cause to bring the jounin to step down or withdraw. His path had been one of attrition, one well worn with trial and tribulation. Every scar earned was proof of another conquered mile as he trampled upon his path. Its end would be his decision, by his own decree.
". . ."
As loud as they presented themselves, his familiar that straddled the log in comfort as they leaned forward with their murderous grin, Seiichi would have been a fool to take such bait. Even more foolish still was to not search for meaning beyond their words as powerful men often played at powerful games. Despite how simple his actions may have seemed, an active and restless mind was at work in the ways it perceived those in front of him and the world around him. There was not a fear in the weight that enveloped him, nor a discomfort born of the lustful gazes of others that encroached upon him; alas, through his own burning rage swelled to life by their antics, they'd be lambs to his slaughter. Nevertheless, despite his talents he could not pinpoint where they rested, where they lay hidden as they'd done little to expose themselves. It was not hesitation that quelled his actions, but it was wisdom that invited the thought and the opportunity for a more gainful approach.
"No. There's a difference in what tethers us to our duties. There's a different in our aspirations. As wise and talented a man as Sarutobi is, its those chains of duty that'll retard his abilities -- the same for any great leader relegated to those posts. Men do not do well in a cage, no mater how large or fanciful their cell may be."
It was why he preferred the while, why he often left the confines of the village and explored the ceilings of his power in the outback. Despite how he'd exhaust himself to no end beneath the canopy of a forest and awake to do it again. He couldn't say it wasn't worth it.
But fresh news was delivered, fresher still on a topic he could have initially no take. Makoto had been a long standing rival, but through the decades of their exchanges had she rarely fought dirty. Despite his stony and misleading visage, an anger boiled beneath. A curse to her name. She'd pay for such a thing if he'd learn of deception no sooner.
"I'll meet you there."
He stretched, an arm raising so a hand could swipe the sweat off his brow. "They'll throw me out if I don't bathe." He smelled ripe. To a lustful women, it was an intoxicating musk.
It seemed, for everyone benefit, Seiichi would show up teddy-fresh.
When he was given the address, assuming nothing more occurred, he'd make his way back with an ear attach to his backside incase threat or trouble continued its loom.
[attr="class","APP3"]He continued to hear that voice. A nagging voice. It was one that felt it necessary to speak to him, despite having no purchase upon a reason to infringe on the man's own personal time. It chased him down, leaving him with no peace.
Finally, at some point after being served a word-soup, Seiichi would turn around. "It appears that you're young, boy. And arrogant. And foolish. and weak." He announced, his loud voice to carry through as it was natural for him to sound so stentorian, regardless the place or context in his speech; should his friends witness him being pulverized or the uchiha making a smart choice and backing down, he would never be allowed to live in peace. "There is no mother who loses her son or sister who loses her brother when I strike a dummy," he had begun to explain, going somewhere with this. "Dummy as you may be, there are others at risk of losing more on your fall." They were confident and life-sized words, ones spoken without hesitation as he insulted--no, belittled this heckling stranger. Despite their own confidence, their pride or their own harnessed power, Seiichi--just in his current state--existed at a ledge that was insuperable to most men. For all his god given talent, this stranger could never hope to surpass it with big talk alone.
Had he truly thought it wise to engage Seiichi Koji for practice? Had the man's mind somehow conjured a scene of some mythological battle between a man and a giant, the mortal man felling the monster? This was no battle of David and Goliath. Should he choose to fight Seiichi, it would only appear as if a lamb embraced the slaughter. He stood there for a measure of time, any silence to befall was allowed as he reevaluated the man and their expressed mettle.
"Fine, so long as your friends will find you treatment I'll make time to humor you in the dohyo."
He finally spoke, after some consideration. He'd walk to the opposite end of the arena, taking his stance if the Uchiha had followed him. It was a centered stance, lower to the earth as he rocked on a very centered mass of gravity. It was in these fights that Seiichi excelled at. Martial bouts without the addition of ninja arts were a realm he was peerless in. This young man would soon understand the meaning of his words.
"Show me what you got." He goaded him, calling his bluff if he was too cautious to advance.
[attr="class","APP3"]His madness had paid off as his leap with fury had allowed him to mount onto the back of rhino, striking it fist first as it seemed that had had unequipped his claws and returned them to the hook in his sash. Fortunately, the intensity of his blow seemed enough deter it from its natural course though it still continued towards a shinobi that had injured it. Seiichi was a heavy mass and, despite the rhino he had mounted being of its own impressive bulk, it would find that the jounin's tenacity was in a weight class of its own. He'd shift himself along the their left side, giving his right arm further leverage and saving him from the crippling blow those stout legs could deliver to the knees if he tried to grapple from behind. With a deep breath he squeezed, trunk-like arms tensing ferociously as his herculean grip crushed without remorse, no different than an overtightened, manual clamp; curiously, this feat was no different than a myth of a demi-man who wrestled and strangled a lion's whose pelt was impenetrable, to death. He bit down ferociously, his teeth to grind against another as he attempted to put the beast to a halt.
But something grander occurred.
Seiichi found his focus nigh-unbreakable as every fiber of his might was poured into those feet that drug against the floor and those arms that held the rhino in a vice that it could not break from. Without the utmost confidence in his tremendous strength and faith in his innate talents and hard-earned power, the shinobi before them was to be trampled unless he, too, acted. With his feet pressed on the floor as he risked life and limb, those very feet calloused to a hide of their own from a life of trampling the frigid and rough tundra's of his own country, he'd force them to a more abrupt stop. There was no fear of consequence, there was no doubt in his ability that he wielded so obtusely to rend the reality of any fate constructed by grander beings in their idle machinations. To those fortunate eyes that could witness a man under going a breath through-- yes, the raw power he was about to display would no longer be a feat of fairytale or legend.
The earth had begun to unsettle around the man as an aura possessed his goliath form, enveloping the entirety of his massive frame as the pelt he wore billowed as did his gi from the energy he invoked with his focus and howl. The earth around him stirred to a mentionable degree, dust was kicked up and pebble had been cast aside as his strength manifested outwardly. With another mighty grunt to expel the power that swelled in him and his bloated, engorged arms, he'd step in with his left leg as he twisted to his right. To further prepare, his right leg would step back and be used to balance himself as tore from the rhino its earthly tethers and lifted it into the air in a most unnatural manner, holding the animal straight up for a brief moment before it was hurled to the ground from over his shoulder. Despite the risk involved, and what it had been performed on, it had been no different than the suplex he had performed countless times before; although, to counter the rhino's length he was brought to balance himself briefly on his toes before that last moment, as the acquire that final bit of leverage. The crash onto the earth was jarring, shaking the plain they battled on as Seiichi reacquainted the rhino he wrestled with earth below. With a horn impaled in the cracked ground, they were stuck upright as the kumo jounin disengaged and moved quickly to its front. With a well placed kick to the under part of its neck, aimed crush any future attempt at breathing, he disengaged permanently and moved onward.
His pace suffered as it was a tad more sluggish--despite his continued advanced--than before. It seemed his body now mulled over what muscles he strained and what injuries he incurred as tax to his action.
[attr="class","APP3"] Fate had been kind in what it afforded Seiichi. Had there been a code he cracked or was it setting him up for a great downfall?
A small waif of a woman, whose lustrous tone skin teetered the border of drive snow and porcelain, had slid into the seat across from him in an amiable manner. Company had always been a curious things, as opposites often found themselves attracting to one another. In her color palette alone, dark clothing and dark hair pinned to a pale and petite frame, there could have been no finer representation for a contrast to him; it was as if she were the black tiles of the shogi board and he were the white ones. Albeit, what broke through the most to the man whom dressed in bear pelts was the brightness in her personality, a kindness that was represented dutifully by big and bright eyes that glistened with a luster of their own, one that had yet abandoned the world regardless of cruelly dealt cards. It was a kindness that strove to find even the faintest of rays that filtered through the canopies until it had grown up enough to break through that ceiling and bask in the sun it so deserved; in truth, it had been something he had long to know but often forgot, purposefully keeping himself at an arm's reach to even this day. The jounin had known animals, he had known beasts but most of all he had known 'lost' as it seemed an unfortunate and often mutual theme. There had been no greater thing that Seiichi Koji had witnessed as it transcended any need of introduction or explanation/ There was no need to look for it as it was no more second nature than breath idly drawn. It was possible that Seiichi had read too into it, but that feral grin of hers seemed to tell the tale of something broken or fractured, pieced back together slowly through the mending hand of time.
"I'm sure he showed you well," came a great rumble from betwixt the bear's lips, his voice to carry a weight as it flooded outward. It seemed, try as he might, even his metered volume commanded attention from more than just those before him. He had taken liberty to set the board as she had been arriving, never knowing when the next player would arrive: the row furthest from her was dressed with pawns, the bishop and rook in the second row in front of the appropriate knight and the last row with the King, it's adjacent gold generals, silver lances and so on until the all nine spaces were filled on the row closest to her. Oddly accurate, her tiles were the black ones and it was often in custom that the black tiles be given the first move. In some regards, it played fairly similar to a more foreign game-- one of the name of chess. It grandest differences were in the promotions and the inclusion of captured pieces along the board, save for unsanctioned spots.
If she had made her move soon, the jounin would respond with his own, however the first few turns were often nothing more than a dance of pawns as either player moved in prediction of the opposing's strategy, setting up defenses or attacks to minimize their loss or lessen their need to commit to a necessary sacrifice. "May I have the name of the young woman who's about to beat me?" The goliath teased, a pair of bright eyes peaking beneath the outstretched maw of a beast slain and frozen into time. It must have been a terrifying battle, to draw such rage that seemed eternally affixed to a creature long deceased.
"You play well. Is it from your father or mother that you've inherited this whit from? You'd make a fine commander, one day."
[attr="class","APP3"]Things remained placid-- as far as the word placid could be stretched along the high seas, anyhow. They had been rocked by the waters, but the clouds had remained vacant and provided no harrowing overcast and or no omen for poor weather. At this, the men were elated as they roared and hipped as their games and activities grew further into the night. They became louder, far more boisterous as they hooted, hollered and even shouted. Men had done everything from playing cards, poker, to even betting how far a loogie could be hawked off the ship. What maintenance had been required to keep Her floors polished and free of injury had been completed as the men were diligent to continue their merry spirits. What puddles appeared were eventually tended to by a man along the crew and it wasn't often to see the one who was tasked with watching from the Crow's Nest to switched out so their spirits could be refreshed and they weren't unfortunately ostracized because of the nature of their more attentive role.
Seiichi had gone on to involve himself in these activities, as doing the other would have raised suspicion. Out of all things, however, the Bear of Kumo did not drink. Despite his impressive bulk and insuperable size, he wasn't he heaviest drinker -- astonishingly lightweight, in fact. More than a few testing sips were enough to settle the man into a realm of sleep. But he danced among the crew in ways that seemed to betray that forlorn glower that was often cast out into the sea, Seiichi himself wishing to return to dryer land sooner rather than later. He played cards, albeit terribly, and what money he had brought aboard he lost -- because he was equally bad at poker. At some point he was tapped out for cash and could no longer participate, which was for the better in the long haul of it.
At one point he would approach Chinetsu, standing besides him if he weren't already occupied with something else. "I've lost all my money. Win it back and keep it." He suggested if, somehow, Chinetsu hadn't already considered doing it himself. They would have to act as any crew member would, to the very best of their abilities. Despite their thuggish looks and uninspiring faces, anyone one of these men could have been the suspected threat that had been aboard the ship. It was unfortunate that most seafaring man were branded with a specific class of features, their brows beaten dark by the overcast of a brutish sun, their frames particularly powerful looking in the torso and arms but far more lacking the legs and an uncertainty in their eyes on whether or not they'd live through the voyage itself, no guarantee of their return to live or love so long as they were rocked by waters stirred easily by the wind.
The sun was soon setting and men had begun to play music. Other men had begun to sing. It was a surprising cast of wonderfully intune voices, as most sailors often possessed a gift when it came to belting notes. It betrayed their grim demeanors, but in a fine way as they sang through it all: the joys of drinking, the joys of love, the sorrow of lost love and finally odes to the fallen. There seemed to be a specific group of men that would focus on the music, their instruments bright and lively or mournful and somber when it was required. Of these same men, came more of the most talented voices. Activities continued on and, at some point, Seiichi could be found lightly boxing and wrestling with the other men as he held back his punches. Despite specializing as a grappler. the Jounin had to meter his strength less he strived for sinking their ship.
The two shinobi would be best reminded that they remain alert. It wasn't so impossible that these rogues that infiltrated the ship were waiting for nightfall to act.
