Time. The line of everlasting existence through events and history? Or what it something more? Fact was time was not something that could truthfully be explained by anyone. It was infinite. Just like the mysteries it holds deep within its roots. Many thought of time as a way to recognize the present…but no. Others believed it to be so much more. A force beyond comprehension doing its work unintentionally and perfectly all at once. The stubborn existence of organization that held the past within a seal. The bringer of the future and the giver of the present. Some believed time to be a god all itself, invisible to the naked eye and unheard through religion. It very well could have been. When phrases are shouted out like ‘we are out of time!’ or ‘Times up.’ To some they are just phrases, to others they are tribute to the all mighty god of time. Whoever it may be weather it was real or not. Or perhaps…for something to be real one must simply believe it to be real? Faith was a powerful substance in many worlds throughout time.

Consisting side by side with time was the gift of memories. A function of history stored within the subconscious of ones mine throughout the period of their lives. Of course…there were always memories better left forgotten. Despite the fact memories would always eventually be forgotten in the downward spiral called time. The memories of the past, of those before us. Never told from the beholder but often from the witness. Stories and legends passed down generation to generation but with each generation only losing more and more of the truth as the line between reality and fantasy grows ever so thinner. It was the same with the beings that traveled the world. Over time ones blood does not strengthen. It weakens. If one were to make a copy, of a copy, of a copy it would not come out stronger. But weaker. This has always been true. The memories that held the truth where lost…forgotten In the web time.

His days always started slow. They didn't start late-- he awoke with the earliest riser in the house, which was to say at the crack of dawn. The early risers tended to prepare themselves quickly and leave early to do their duties. He would follow them in their rituals to a point, being of aid when he could, otherwise just providing company, a gentle reminder of steps they may have forgotten. He'd awake from his bunk...say hello to his roommates...and wish them a safe and plentiful day. The air in the mornings was cold, it always bit at his nose and clung to his skin. He always waited for the sun to warm the ground some before he braved the world.

It was part of his own private ritual. So many steps he'd learned in his all too short life, things designed to keep him healthy in body, soul, and mind. Ever since he was young, still on his mother's teat, he'd practiced certain techniques. It was an act of balance, an equalizer. He stuck to routine as often as he could, an upstart threatened much worse than a bad start to a day. Since before birth he'd suffered from a debilitating condition, something that made him different from his rambunctious squad members. If they could even be called that.

The teens heart beat differently than others if at all. He'd known this almost as soon as he began to have conscious thought. His mother was a rock, her heart beat was steady and slow. As early as he could remember, he could remember sinking into the sound of it, wrapping himself in the comfort of her life-giving breath. Even now, he took every opportunity that presented itself to fall asleep with his head cradled against her bosom. The thought of seeming childish never entered his mind.

Each morning he sank into himself the way he had sunk into his mother. His breathing grew slow, controlled. Each breath was deep, filling his chest cavity to capacity. He held his breath for several seconds before slowly exhaling, looking inward. His heart beat was hollow... but still powered his body. The beats were slow...blank...and cold, the sound not as deep and robust as he yearned it to be. There was a slosh, always a worry, blood leaking from where it was meant to be. Every morning he felt unsettled. his heart was cold and the blood that ran through his veins was made of ice...but he would not let that change him. Not in the slightest.

He filled his mind with pure, intelligent thoughts. The sound of his past tormentors, his enemies. The sound of the clashing blades and shinobi, each unique, their beats as fast as their hand signs or their inquisitive minds. He focused, another deep breath, looked inward again. Slowly the beat of his heart leaned towards a more steady pace, calm energy pooled just above his gut. Around him, the sounds of his brothers in arms joining the world of the waking went ignored, his entire being preoccupied by maintaining the positive.

'This is me.' was the thought, 'And I can be as strong as I want.' His heart agreed, compromising on a steady if weak beat. Satisfied, he pulled himself back to the present, his breathing slowly returning to normal. His light crimson eyes opened, greeting the warming sun that had peaked over the horizon and came shining through the windows of the compound. He flinched, closing his eyes and reaching for his goggles. Those who were later to rise stirred all around him, going about their own personal rituals, and he joined them, seeing each off with a smile and wave of positiveness. When the last had lifted his heavy body from the frame of his lumpy bunk, his eyes stern and heavy as he twisted his body so his legs hung off the edge of his bed and his feet touching the floor where the sun had warmed the most. Slipping on his goggles and looking directly at the sun once more. Not this time...

He had a meeting to attend soon with some mystery person at the training grounds...apparently something of importance. He would rather attend a meeting then go through the monday drills... Probably one of the reasons the ninja awoke earlier than everyone else...to prepare. To sharpen his senses before he was disturbed by the loud voices of the drill instructors. Then again it was all for rehabilitation. He had been out the game for a while so he understood they needed to keep him and his men on their toes. Sighing and bringing a hand to the back of his neck he rubbed along it gently and craned it side to side. Feeling his joints pop with age and physical stress the large man lifted himself from his bed and scanned the room as he did his morning stretches.

Turning his head to see his roommate Shepard drooling on his pillow the male chuckled and he rolled his eyes as he pulled his duffel bag from under his bunk lazily and placed himself on the floor. Unzipping a compartment and pulling out a ball of white socks he unrolled them and slipped them on. Afterwards taking his black boots and putting them on he yawned as he got dressed and reached for his holster that hung on the railing at the end of his bed. Holding it for a moment and unstrapping the buckle that held it together he slipped it on as he would a backpack as if he were preparing for school. Taking the little buckle he stretched it across his chest so that it connected in the center and sighed.

Deciding to make way to the meeting early he headed out the door. Grabbing his black leather jacket he put it on and placed his hands into his pockets he grabbed his walking stick as he walked down the grimy halls of the facility. Passing multiple doors and heading into the elevator at the end of the hall. As the doors closed behind him he headed down the street. The empty streets of the leaf...all he saw now was the shopkeepers opening up and collecting new shipments of goods for another busy day at the market...humans where so interesting. Walking with a limp in his step he headed for the training area. Once he got there, he noticed that the place seemed relatively empty...either his client was late or...

Sparda paused, standing there with narrow eyes and a grin plastered across his face as he turned his head slightly over his shoulder to gaze at...

[OOC: Muse, where hast thou gone?]


What is....a world?

A girl flickered her eyes open. A breeze rustled the tree that shaded her, causing a slight squint at the streams of light descending from the gaps in the leaves. A spitting noise signaled that she freed her hair from her mouth. Vulgar? Maybe. But that was the human condition....abominations, every last one of them. This, the girl thought, even of herself; one who knew the purity and freedom of the soul itself was not wont to enjoy the trappings of a mortal body.

Opening her eyes fully after a full contraction and dilation of her pupils, she began to pick herself up to a kneel with a yawn. Where am I, again...? Looking around....a simple clearing, a couple wooden posts. The entire serene little place overlooked a small, pristine-looking pond. The light sparkled and jumped off of its surface, almost as if a sea of sapphires were in its place. Yes, this was the training ground. It was so quiet and nice here when people weren't around to defile it. All the scuffs on the ground, the cuts on the trees....the wildlife was even disturbed when people trained here. It was strange how people deigned to make this place their preferred place to hone their skills; it could have easily been somewhere less impactful.

Looking to the side, she saw that Enoka was prancing about the clearing. He was enjoying himself thoroughly; she couldn't imagine how tuckered-out he was from training yesterday, but yet he still managed to muster the energy to play uselessly like that. Sometimes Noriko wondered if he was seriously a good combat partner. Right, I was training...did I seriously stay the night here?! Jumping to her feet with a start, she slipped on the residual dew that had settled pretty much everywhere besides where she was. Repeated:

She got up. And fell down again.

Not to mention, she conked her head good and hard on the tree that was once her friend.....Why, Yew, why!? Rubbing her head, she spotted someone treading into the sun-illuminated clearing. Quite simply: it was the person she herself invited....whose identity she had no inkling of; it was nothing more than a flier she posted up a couple days ago. What was wrong with wanting a sparring partner, after a He had been walking at an angle that was  a little further than perpendicular to where Noriko was, and even then she was in the shade; quickly picking up Enoka, who had rushed to his owner and partner, she dove behind a tree. If he approached from either side, there was shrubbery and other foliage she could hide in without making too much of an unnatural noise. Yes, she wanted to turn this little encounter into a game. Readying her hands, she brought them together in front of her chest, lacing her hands all but for her thumbs and pinkies;  the Dragon seal heralded the preparation of a jutsu....but she was not so uncouth as to make the first move.

No, that was his job. Waiting, waiting, is a game~~

Training: