1 To Train Sand and Void. (Invite|NK|Miki/Ren|Training) Tue May 31, 2016 3:37 am
Kaguza
D-rank
It had only been a few days since his encounter with an old companion, although looking back it didn’t give him any information. It got him his name, and a sword. A chilling blade infused with Hyoton chakra, such a glorious item in this desert heat. It provided the much needed relief from the scorching sun and harsh wind of this forsaken land. It was the only thing he truly had to his name now. The acquisition of the weapon though brought a few troubles with it. More looks from the civilians of the village, all concerned that a bum now had a weapon and the possibilities it could bring. The ninja of the village keeping a closer eye on his location lest such fears be realized. And the more bold and stupid accusing him of stealing such a masterfully crafted item.
The sword at his side gave him new light to each day, he couldn’t say exactly why, he felt more complete. It was hard to describe. It gave him the determination though to first of all conquer his language issue. Spending hours muttering to himself, he came off as just a crazy bum. Wandering the desert city he needed a place out of the public eye, but still accessed by people. He needed to hear normal speech if he wanted to improve his situation. Several place in the village had potential but weren’t quite right. The Bazaar was too crowded, The Slums were just disgusting and violent, Kazekage’s Peak was restricted, so many places that all had something that would prevent him. The one thing he was truly looking for though was shade, some place out of the sun.
It took a few days before the sun beaten blonde walked by the Grand Colosseum, such a massive structure, it was glorious. Four separate arenas isolated from each other, and they had roofs! Sweet sanctuary from the sun, it called to him with such seductive whispers. “Come, and rest” Almost audible words came to mind. Two of the arenas were in use, so there would be too many people. It seemed the fourth arena wasn’t in use for any event and it was open to the public. It was all too perfect. Perhaps he could even witness some of the villages shinobi’s skills.
Eagerly entering the halls of the arena,it felt so good to escape the sun’s rays. Where he was from, it clearly wasn’t this damn hot! The occasional person dotted the paths of the structure, most giving the rag dressed vagabond dirty looks. All the looks screamed that he wasn’t welcome in this place of honor, he didn’t care though. Unless an authority removed him he was going to spend quite a bit of time here. If he was lucky he’d even make some money, how though was a different question.
Finally after wandering the halls, the blonde Myugan found himself standing along the edge of the gladiatorial arena. It was awe inspiring, how many people could this place hold? It was so cool inside out of the sun, it felt great. Here he could practice whatever his heart desired without drawing too much attention to himself. Looking around he found a seat and began talking to himself, attempting to say the words he wanted rather than the wrong ones. It was a struggle.
A distant echo faintly entered the arena. A pin drop in this place could be heard everywhere. Two people walked into the open arena near to where the ragged vagabond sat. Quickly catching their attention it seemed the two didn’t care for his presence. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing in here huh? A bum like you shouldn’t be here. This is for fighters and ninjas, not worthless trash like yourself.” Such harassment, he wasn’t bothering anyone. He wasn’t afraid though, an indescribable confidence kept him calm. “Didn’t you hear us! Get out!” They were quick to anger, the first man taking a swing. Never giving the aggressive men a look, the punch came as a surprise, knocking him to the floor. Setsura clanging as it tapped the ground from the blonde man’s waist. “A sword? He’s got a weapon. In here that means you gotta fight. Come on fight us. Bet you stole it.”
“He can’t take!”
His words failed again. He wasn’t going to be accused of thievery, it was a gift. “What hell does that mean? You’ve got a stolen weapon, let’s see you use it!” The second of the two men pulling out a sword of his own. “Come on fight!” Kaguza took to his feet only giving the men a stare of disgust. A second hook though would send him from his feet, this time though over the edge of the railing into the arena. “You’re in the arena itself now, now you have to fight. Come on, prove you can use that piece of junk.” Again they were pushing his buttons. Thievery and now they called his masterpiece junk. The two men jumped down into the arena each now brandishing a weapon. Getting to his feet for the second time, he removed a handful of the rags that protected him from the sun. He wore a pair of dark pants, and a loose dark shirt. A ragged pair of shoes on his feet and bandages covered his hands. Scars were all over his arms even a few on his neck and face. The man had been through hell more than once, though he couldn’t remember. The two men rushed in wildly swinging their weapons. They were slow, his body moving naturally, avoiding each of the bladed swings. It felt like a dance, left, right, left, left, down, jump, graceful almost. It felt so natural to him, faint images in his mind came forth, memories surfacing only just a little. He was getting distracted by them, enough to fail avoiding the first man’s attack. A blade grazing his side. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it hurt. “Loser won’t even defend himself, guess you really are worthless. All you do is run away.” That was three, a small flame erupted in his mind.
“He’ll show you what real is.”
Again, strangely close though, perhaps he was improving. The two men simply gave him confused looks as they charged in together, blades leading the way. He couldn’t move to avoid the swords. His body felt like a puppet, moving on it’s own, it felt . . . good. His arms rising up catching the two swords with his hands, one in each. He gripped the steel blades till they finally snapped under his strength. Insane to all, such a move would cut open the flesh. His hands though didn’t bleed at all. The bandage were cut, but not the skin. The two men gasped, jumping away to put some distance. “What the hell?! What is wrong with you?! No one can do that!” Tossing the broken blades aside, they were embedded in the stone wall of the arena from pure force. Dropping the broken swords, the men took out several shuriken and unleashed a barrage of ranged attacks. The Myugan’s hand knew exactly what to do. Forming several hand seals, a barrier of raiton chakra formed around the blonde man. It was solid catching each of the thrown weapons and launching them back in different directions. The barrier was thick and gave off a crackling noise, it was impossible to see Kaguza inside. It was silent for a moment as a roar erupted from within the raiton shell. A massive dragon of pure energy erupted from the electrical bubble. Terrifying it rushed forward at the two men. Screams of sheer terror came from the men as the dragon’s shocking teeth closed around them. Cries and whimpers were heard amongst the electrical static as the dragon dissipated into nothing. The two men sitting on the ground quivering and unharmed. Despite how they treated him, he wasn’t going to kill them, or even hurt them. The shell that protected the blonde man dispersed as well, revealing him as he sheathed the blade. “Don’t hurt us!” They were terrified, and rightfully so. He could have killed them, but he didn’t. Slowly he approached the two, kneeling down he stared at the men. Giving them a smile to put them at ease before delivering a swift strike to each of them, knocking them flat on their backs. A pair of light punches, the two men scrambled to their feet running from the Colosseum in fear.
Very lightly the Myugan touched his side. A surge of pain shot through his body, he was bleeding pretty badly from the light wound. He had such thin blood, there had to be a reason though he couldn’t remember it. Walking to the wall of the arena, he leaned against the wall, letting out a groan of pain. The blood was pooling on the floor now. Reaching to his waist, he untied a small gourd that churned with liquid inside. Removing the cork stopper, he poured it over his wound, a scream of pain followed. It appeared to be water, though a faint smell would tell any medic otherwise. It was alcohol, pure. He was using it to disinfect and clean the wound. Several grunts of pain followed as the man attempted to tie off some of the rags he had around his waist to stop the bleeding. It did little good as his body would bleed for awhile.
1584 words
The sword at his side gave him new light to each day, he couldn’t say exactly why, he felt more complete. It was hard to describe. It gave him the determination though to first of all conquer his language issue. Spending hours muttering to himself, he came off as just a crazy bum. Wandering the desert city he needed a place out of the public eye, but still accessed by people. He needed to hear normal speech if he wanted to improve his situation. Several place in the village had potential but weren’t quite right. The Bazaar was too crowded, The Slums were just disgusting and violent, Kazekage’s Peak was restricted, so many places that all had something that would prevent him. The one thing he was truly looking for though was shade, some place out of the sun.
It took a few days before the sun beaten blonde walked by the Grand Colosseum, such a massive structure, it was glorious. Four separate arenas isolated from each other, and they had roofs! Sweet sanctuary from the sun, it called to him with such seductive whispers. “Come, and rest” Almost audible words came to mind. Two of the arenas were in use, so there would be too many people. It seemed the fourth arena wasn’t in use for any event and it was open to the public. It was all too perfect. Perhaps he could even witness some of the villages shinobi’s skills.
Eagerly entering the halls of the arena,it felt so good to escape the sun’s rays. Where he was from, it clearly wasn’t this damn hot! The occasional person dotted the paths of the structure, most giving the rag dressed vagabond dirty looks. All the looks screamed that he wasn’t welcome in this place of honor, he didn’t care though. Unless an authority removed him he was going to spend quite a bit of time here. If he was lucky he’d even make some money, how though was a different question.
Finally after wandering the halls, the blonde Myugan found himself standing along the edge of the gladiatorial arena. It was awe inspiring, how many people could this place hold? It was so cool inside out of the sun, it felt great. Here he could practice whatever his heart desired without drawing too much attention to himself. Looking around he found a seat and began talking to himself, attempting to say the words he wanted rather than the wrong ones. It was a struggle.
A distant echo faintly entered the arena. A pin drop in this place could be heard everywhere. Two people walked into the open arena near to where the ragged vagabond sat. Quickly catching their attention it seemed the two didn’t care for his presence. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing in here huh? A bum like you shouldn’t be here. This is for fighters and ninjas, not worthless trash like yourself.” Such harassment, he wasn’t bothering anyone. He wasn’t afraid though, an indescribable confidence kept him calm. “Didn’t you hear us! Get out!” They were quick to anger, the first man taking a swing. Never giving the aggressive men a look, the punch came as a surprise, knocking him to the floor. Setsura clanging as it tapped the ground from the blonde man’s waist. “A sword? He’s got a weapon. In here that means you gotta fight. Come on fight us. Bet you stole it.”
“He can’t take!”
His words failed again. He wasn’t going to be accused of thievery, it was a gift. “What hell does that mean? You’ve got a stolen weapon, let’s see you use it!” The second of the two men pulling out a sword of his own. “Come on fight!” Kaguza took to his feet only giving the men a stare of disgust. A second hook though would send him from his feet, this time though over the edge of the railing into the arena. “You’re in the arena itself now, now you have to fight. Come on, prove you can use that piece of junk.” Again they were pushing his buttons. Thievery and now they called his masterpiece junk. The two men jumped down into the arena each now brandishing a weapon. Getting to his feet for the second time, he removed a handful of the rags that protected him from the sun. He wore a pair of dark pants, and a loose dark shirt. A ragged pair of shoes on his feet and bandages covered his hands. Scars were all over his arms even a few on his neck and face. The man had been through hell more than once, though he couldn’t remember. The two men rushed in wildly swinging their weapons. They were slow, his body moving naturally, avoiding each of the bladed swings. It felt like a dance, left, right, left, left, down, jump, graceful almost. It felt so natural to him, faint images in his mind came forth, memories surfacing only just a little. He was getting distracted by them, enough to fail avoiding the first man’s attack. A blade grazing his side. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it hurt. “Loser won’t even defend himself, guess you really are worthless. All you do is run away.” That was three, a small flame erupted in his mind.
“He’ll show you what real is.”
Again, strangely close though, perhaps he was improving. The two men simply gave him confused looks as they charged in together, blades leading the way. He couldn’t move to avoid the swords. His body felt like a puppet, moving on it’s own, it felt . . . good. His arms rising up catching the two swords with his hands, one in each. He gripped the steel blades till they finally snapped under his strength. Insane to all, such a move would cut open the flesh. His hands though didn’t bleed at all. The bandage were cut, but not the skin. The two men gasped, jumping away to put some distance. “What the hell?! What is wrong with you?! No one can do that!” Tossing the broken blades aside, they were embedded in the stone wall of the arena from pure force. Dropping the broken swords, the men took out several shuriken and unleashed a barrage of ranged attacks. The Myugan’s hand knew exactly what to do. Forming several hand seals, a barrier of raiton chakra formed around the blonde man. It was solid catching each of the thrown weapons and launching them back in different directions. The barrier was thick and gave off a crackling noise, it was impossible to see Kaguza inside. It was silent for a moment as a roar erupted from within the raiton shell. A massive dragon of pure energy erupted from the electrical bubble. Terrifying it rushed forward at the two men. Screams of sheer terror came from the men as the dragon’s shocking teeth closed around them. Cries and whimpers were heard amongst the electrical static as the dragon dissipated into nothing. The two men sitting on the ground quivering and unharmed. Despite how they treated him, he wasn’t going to kill them, or even hurt them. The shell that protected the blonde man dispersed as well, revealing him as he sheathed the blade. “Don’t hurt us!” They were terrified, and rightfully so. He could have killed them, but he didn’t. Slowly he approached the two, kneeling down he stared at the men. Giving them a smile to put them at ease before delivering a swift strike to each of them, knocking them flat on their backs. A pair of light punches, the two men scrambled to their feet running from the Colosseum in fear.
Very lightly the Myugan touched his side. A surge of pain shot through his body, he was bleeding pretty badly from the light wound. He had such thin blood, there had to be a reason though he couldn’t remember it. Walking to the wall of the arena, he leaned against the wall, letting out a groan of pain. The blood was pooling on the floor now. Reaching to his waist, he untied a small gourd that churned with liquid inside. Removing the cork stopper, he poured it over his wound, a scream of pain followed. It appeared to be water, though a faint smell would tell any medic otherwise. It was alcohol, pure. He was using it to disinfect and clean the wound. Several grunts of pain followed as the man attempted to tie off some of the rags he had around his waist to stop the bleeding. It did little good as his body would bleed for awhile.
1584 words