1 Now, now, kids. No need to be afraid of the dark. {Training, No Kill} Sun May 11, 2014 2:41 pm
Tame
D-rank
Ah, this place brought back memories.
Tame stood at the wide mouth of a cave. It was infamous, almost reviled, yet oddly enticing; a place which was uniquely known among the citizens of the Stone for being a place that no one ever escaped. Yes, this was a curious little cavern; for it was not simply an indent in the earth or a place hollowed out by wind and water. Quite simply, it was the only entrance to an intricate linkage of tunnels. Fascinating, really: that this entire system of what was probably transportation had no effect on the world above. It was rarely ever thought of if one did not bring to mind this cavern.
But, as he stood, Tame noted that there was something strange going on there: the cave, at first glance standing outside seemed as normal, but as one continued inward, a rock was in the way. The narrowing cave, almost as if the earth itself had a gullet, was choking on a rock. A...quite large one, at that.
This boulder was enormous. It could not be overstated how many times bigger it was than Tame. It was one of those things that made you feel quite small in life; one of those things that Tame hated.
That being said, Tame wanted to go visit the site of an old meeting he had. And this big lunk of sloppily-compressed earth was sure as hell not going to stop him. So, Tame began to punch it, in a calm fury. Quite the sight to behold: Itagaki Tame, the Whimsical Sniper, the S-rank-nuke-ninja master of long-range assassination, was punching a boulder.
But it wasn't just a boulder; it was a rock. A rock...
And it was then that Tame realized he was punching a rock. If he could scream, he would have done so at the top of his lungs; so, projecting his mental voice as far as he could, those in the area would hear a near-deafening (well, if such a thing would have affected their ears), disembodied FUUUUUUUCK! resound through their minds. It was rather like a foghorn; infallibly clearing away all other thoughts.
And then he started punching again. And again and again and again.
One might think he hadn't learned his lesson....no, he had. He had learned that the rock was stronger than he was. And he simply could not accept that. At least, at this point, his knuckles no longer hurt from punching the giant piece of hardened dirt. (He was fully aware that this was not due to him destroying his nerve endings by striking it repeatedly, however; this only motivated him to do more, to become stronger than a rock.)
And, at this point, Tame noticed an amazing phenomenon: he was cracking the rock. Just a tad. The tiniest little slivers had yielded to his fists, which exhilerated him. It was almost....no, it was exactly the same feeling. Cracking this monolith felt exactly like killing the Raikage and Hokage....he felt alive. He couldn't stop. He had so much inside him that he needed to let out: the energy, the hate, the frustration. All of it needed an outlet: and the perfect one was this giant piece of earth the deities probably laughed at as a pebble. Tame would too one day laugh at the rock.... ONE DAY.
He had not felt this in awhile.....everything he ever did was based on whimsy. This drive, this motivation....all based on a rock. He would overcome this obstacle at any cost....even if it killed him.
...
Well, maybe not that. Doing so would be....quite counter-intuitive. So, maybe he would stop if he was actually going to get injured.
DIE
YOU FUCKING
PIECE OF TRASH
These, spoken (well, not actually spoken, but it might as well have been) as the former Yamada clansman furiously pounded the giant stone with his hands balled up. As he did so, he noted that there were dents forming....yessss....the cracks began spreading a small bit, as well. Perhaps he wasn't becoming stronger, rather....but perhaps, just maybe, he was making himself not yield to this rock. He would not be defeated by an inanimate object.
But, somehow, Tame began to pant, and sweat; something he thought impossible for himself. The last time he had done so would have been....at least eight years ago. Back when he was in the Academy.
{Training Endurance E-0 --> D-0, complete! 750/750 words!}
It was....despicable. He was getting beaten by a rock. He curled up on the ground and started to silently sob to himself. why...why me... He supposed it had to do with his lifelong neglect of his physical stamina. After that accident....he never wanted to get close to anyone again, physically or figuratively.
But it happened to turn out that (at least the former) was his downfall. He never saw the need to train his own physical strength, or anything else for that matter. If he wanted to continue doing what he did best....he supposed that he would have to become somewhat more well-rounded to keep himself in the business. This, of course, was something Tame did not relish one bit.
{125/750, Strength E-0 to D-0.}
Tame stood at the wide mouth of a cave. It was infamous, almost reviled, yet oddly enticing; a place which was uniquely known among the citizens of the Stone for being a place that no one ever escaped. Yes, this was a curious little cavern; for it was not simply an indent in the earth or a place hollowed out by wind and water. Quite simply, it was the only entrance to an intricate linkage of tunnels. Fascinating, really: that this entire system of what was probably transportation had no effect on the world above. It was rarely ever thought of if one did not bring to mind this cavern.
But, as he stood, Tame noted that there was something strange going on there: the cave, at first glance standing outside seemed as normal, but as one continued inward, a rock was in the way. The narrowing cave, almost as if the earth itself had a gullet, was choking on a rock. A...quite large one, at that.
This boulder was enormous. It could not be overstated how many times bigger it was than Tame. It was one of those things that made you feel quite small in life; one of those things that Tame hated.
That being said, Tame wanted to go visit the site of an old meeting he had. And this big lunk of sloppily-compressed earth was sure as hell not going to stop him. So, Tame began to punch it, in a calm fury. Quite the sight to behold: Itagaki Tame, the Whimsical Sniper, the S-rank-nuke-ninja master of long-range assassination, was punching a boulder.
But it wasn't just a boulder; it was a rock. A rock...
And it was then that Tame realized he was punching a rock. If he could scream, he would have done so at the top of his lungs; so, projecting his mental voice as far as he could, those in the area would hear a near-deafening (well, if such a thing would have affected their ears), disembodied FUUUUUUUCK! resound through their minds. It was rather like a foghorn; infallibly clearing away all other thoughts.
And then he started punching again. And again and again and again.
One might think he hadn't learned his lesson....no, he had. He had learned that the rock was stronger than he was. And he simply could not accept that. At least, at this point, his knuckles no longer hurt from punching the giant piece of hardened dirt. (He was fully aware that this was not due to him destroying his nerve endings by striking it repeatedly, however; this only motivated him to do more, to become stronger than a rock.)
And, at this point, Tame noticed an amazing phenomenon: he was cracking the rock. Just a tad. The tiniest little slivers had yielded to his fists, which exhilerated him. It was almost....no, it was exactly the same feeling. Cracking this monolith felt exactly like killing the Raikage and Hokage....he felt alive. He couldn't stop. He had so much inside him that he needed to let out: the energy, the hate, the frustration. All of it needed an outlet: and the perfect one was this giant piece of earth the deities probably laughed at as a pebble. Tame would too one day laugh at the rock.... ONE DAY.
He had not felt this in awhile.....everything he ever did was based on whimsy. This drive, this motivation....all based on a rock. He would overcome this obstacle at any cost....even if it killed him.
...
Well, maybe not that. Doing so would be....quite counter-intuitive. So, maybe he would stop if he was actually going to get injured.
DIE
YOU FUCKING
PIECE OF TRASH
These, spoken (well, not actually spoken, but it might as well have been) as the former Yamada clansman furiously pounded the giant stone with his hands balled up. As he did so, he noted that there were dents forming....yessss....the cracks began spreading a small bit, as well. Perhaps he wasn't becoming stronger, rather....but perhaps, just maybe, he was making himself not yield to this rock. He would not be defeated by an inanimate object.
But, somehow, Tame began to pant, and sweat; something he thought impossible for himself. The last time he had done so would have been....at least eight years ago. Back when he was in the Academy.
{Training Endurance E-0 --> D-0, complete! 750/750 words!}
It was....despicable. He was getting beaten by a rock. He curled up on the ground and started to silently sob to himself. why...why me... He supposed it had to do with his lifelong neglect of his physical stamina. After that accident....he never wanted to get close to anyone again, physically or figuratively.
But it happened to turn out that (at least the former) was his downfall. He never saw the need to train his own physical strength, or anything else for that matter. If he wanted to continue doing what he did best....he supposed that he would have to become somewhat more well-rounded to keep himself in the business. This, of course, was something Tame did not relish one bit.
{125/750, Strength E-0 to D-0.}