1 Clouds of Witness (Solo; training) Fri Dec 04, 2015 2:14 am
Takao
S-rank
There were countless ways for a person to prepare themselves for combat, and even more when taking into account specific participants. Among such methods was education. When he was younger, Takao all too frequently overlooked such a simple yet paramount way of training in favour of his body. How fast he could move, how high he could jump, how hard he could punch, how many glowing balls of flame he could produce... They were all his priority.
But now, in his young adulthood, things had become clear to him. Everybody had weaknesses to be exploited. Combat between equal combatants was so rarely won with brute force alone - it took something more. It took a great deal of perception, and not simply the five senses one might associate with the word. It took forethought. Preparation. Planning. Cautiousness. It took an observant mind capable of understanding the whys and hows. Thankfully there were other ways of preparing as well, that didn't require such a... hands on approach.
Takao lowered a scroll to the table he stood in front of and unrolled it. Written in immaculate penmanship - or in the scroll's case, inkmanship - was a plethora of information regarding a certain infamous clan. "The Uchiha..." A low rumble of a voice escaped from his throat. Colourless eyes rested on the words written on the parchment as a gloved hand traced the symbols. His gaze stopped and rested on a certain portion.
"Amaterasu... the ultimate fire technque." He spit the words like venom. Ultimate fire technique, and all they had to do was look at something. No effort. No passion. No heart. Fire was destructive, dangerous, and unpredictable... but it was also beautiful. Fuel was consumed and energy was given in exchange. Nothing gave off the same warmth as fire did. "And they taint it by turning it black." A long breath escaped his nostrils. Fine. If they wanted to call their abomination of a fire technique the epitome of such, so be it. He wouldn't spend his time mulling over how wrong he would make them. Time would surely prove that much. For now, his focus was on the mind.
"What a tragic clan... Their abilities are only unlocked after suffering some kind of acute mental trauma." Takao had developed the habit of speaking to himself over the years. He both hated and loved the silence. He hated when it became so quiet that the silence was louder than any noise he'd heard before, and he absolutely despised loud noises. "So inefficient. Usage of their strongest techniques erodes their optic nerves... Unless another Mangekyou Sharingan is transplanted, which results in another change... Their most dangerous abilities require the sacrifice of their own blood."
This information wasn't anything new to him. The Uchiha were a prominent part in the founding of Konohagakure, and he had educated himself several times over the course of his shinobi career. He learned himself what their skills were, where they came from, their history, their members... He learned of their abilities and spent countless hours working out ways to counteract them in his head. They were no longer native to Konohagakure, their allegiance could lay with anybody. Hao was an excellent example.
He continued reading over the information that he had gone over a hundred times already, if only to brush up on what he already knew. Various historical stories and histories recounting varying members of the infamous clan and their deeds - or in some cases, misdeeds. "And they're usually all so eager to spill that blood, just for the pursuit of power..." Takao slowly slid into the chair in front of the table he had been standing in front of. His head tilted to the side and rested on his hand as his eyes shifted up and down, reading further down the scroll.
"How miserable. I can't imagine trying to bring a child up in that kind of environment." He muttered quietly. The gloves he wore muffled the light rapping of his knuckles on the wooden table. "...Probably why so many of them choose to remain hidden for as long as they can. Wouldn't surprise me if Hao Uchiha had a few hidden offspring running around somewhere." The thought both terrified and excited him. Nothing inspired the ire of a person like the death of their father. In the eyes of so many adolescent youths, their father was the pinnacle of power and authority. They were usually idolized in some way or another.
His gaze wandered away from the scroll for a moment and found itself looking through the clouded window not far away. The orange glow of late evening poured through, only to be met with a brighter artificial light. Takao didn't allow for his wandering gaze to linger for long before it set back to the scroll, gloved fingers tracing over a new line of text. "Tsukuyomi and Susano'o..." His voice drew out the words in his quiet monotone. He couldn't help but be a tad jealous. Some individuals just had all the luck from birth. Talent granted to them by their parent's hard work, making their own progression effortless. A plethora of powerful abilities - not without their drawbacks of course - yet still terrifyingly strong.
It made him a little envious, but more than that, it flooded his head with determination. Fine. They could have their ultimate fire technique and their fancy eyes and their murderous tendencies. If he were to reach his goals and become as powerful as he felt was needed to protect everything that he held dear to him, the road would undoubtedly be rough and paved with a plethora of hardships, with competition being the most notable after his injury.
But now, in his young adulthood, things had become clear to him. Everybody had weaknesses to be exploited. Combat between equal combatants was so rarely won with brute force alone - it took something more. It took a great deal of perception, and not simply the five senses one might associate with the word. It took forethought. Preparation. Planning. Cautiousness. It took an observant mind capable of understanding the whys and hows. Thankfully there were other ways of preparing as well, that didn't require such a... hands on approach.
Takao lowered a scroll to the table he stood in front of and unrolled it. Written in immaculate penmanship - or in the scroll's case, inkmanship - was a plethora of information regarding a certain infamous clan. "The Uchiha..." A low rumble of a voice escaped from his throat. Colourless eyes rested on the words written on the parchment as a gloved hand traced the symbols. His gaze stopped and rested on a certain portion.
"Amaterasu... the ultimate fire technque." He spit the words like venom. Ultimate fire technique, and all they had to do was look at something. No effort. No passion. No heart. Fire was destructive, dangerous, and unpredictable... but it was also beautiful. Fuel was consumed and energy was given in exchange. Nothing gave off the same warmth as fire did. "And they taint it by turning it black." A long breath escaped his nostrils. Fine. If they wanted to call their abomination of a fire technique the epitome of such, so be it. He wouldn't spend his time mulling over how wrong he would make them. Time would surely prove that much. For now, his focus was on the mind.
"What a tragic clan... Their abilities are only unlocked after suffering some kind of acute mental trauma." Takao had developed the habit of speaking to himself over the years. He both hated and loved the silence. He hated when it became so quiet that the silence was louder than any noise he'd heard before, and he absolutely despised loud noises. "So inefficient. Usage of their strongest techniques erodes their optic nerves... Unless another Mangekyou Sharingan is transplanted, which results in another change... Their most dangerous abilities require the sacrifice of their own blood."
This information wasn't anything new to him. The Uchiha were a prominent part in the founding of Konohagakure, and he had educated himself several times over the course of his shinobi career. He learned himself what their skills were, where they came from, their history, their members... He learned of their abilities and spent countless hours working out ways to counteract them in his head. They were no longer native to Konohagakure, their allegiance could lay with anybody. Hao was an excellent example.
He continued reading over the information that he had gone over a hundred times already, if only to brush up on what he already knew. Various historical stories and histories recounting varying members of the infamous clan and their deeds - or in some cases, misdeeds. "And they're usually all so eager to spill that blood, just for the pursuit of power..." Takao slowly slid into the chair in front of the table he had been standing in front of. His head tilted to the side and rested on his hand as his eyes shifted up and down, reading further down the scroll.
"How miserable. I can't imagine trying to bring a child up in that kind of environment." He muttered quietly. The gloves he wore muffled the light rapping of his knuckles on the wooden table. "...Probably why so many of them choose to remain hidden for as long as they can. Wouldn't surprise me if Hao Uchiha had a few hidden offspring running around somewhere." The thought both terrified and excited him. Nothing inspired the ire of a person like the death of their father. In the eyes of so many adolescent youths, their father was the pinnacle of power and authority. They were usually idolized in some way or another.
His gaze wandered away from the scroll for a moment and found itself looking through the clouded window not far away. The orange glow of late evening poured through, only to be met with a brighter artificial light. Takao didn't allow for his wandering gaze to linger for long before it set back to the scroll, gloved fingers tracing over a new line of text. "Tsukuyomi and Susano'o..." His voice drew out the words in his quiet monotone. He couldn't help but be a tad jealous. Some individuals just had all the luck from birth. Talent granted to them by their parent's hard work, making their own progression effortless. A plethora of powerful abilities - not without their drawbacks of course - yet still terrifyingly strong.
It made him a little envious, but more than that, it flooded his head with determination. Fine. They could have their ultimate fire technique and their fancy eyes and their murderous tendencies. If he were to reach his goals and become as powerful as he felt was needed to protect everything that he held dear to him, the road would undoubtedly be rough and paved with a plethora of hardships, with competition being the most notable after his injury.
- -
Perception - | D | → | D-1 | [260/260] |
Perception - | D-1 | → | D-2 | [320/320] |
Perception - | D-2 | → | D-3 | [360/360] |
Total Word Count: | [949] | ||
Remaining: | [9] |