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Gen

Gen


D-rank
it was dark.

for more reasons than one, to be sure, but he couldn't have known that. his eyes were still open, after all. the plip - plip - plip of something behind him. it was most likely water. without being able to make sure of the fact, though, he grasped at the faintest tingling, or per...haps warmth, in his heart. he darted his eyes around, only able to trust in what he felt. most of that, at the moment, was a swimming in his head, the feeling that gravity was tugging him any which way at complete random. yet, he was on the ground, barely even kneeling, some not-quite-sharp things digging into his....yes, his right knee. and the base of his palm, right next to his left wrist. he felt a familiarity with those terms, at least. in relation to his own body, anyhow. now that his thoughts briefly turned to that, directions are first learned in nascence only in respect to where one currently was. maybe that was also the source of this feeling in his chest....no, there was another, lower, in his gut. was it nostalgia, from his days as a child? or perhaps fear that he'd been reduced to a state that seemed all too familiar for it.

he couldn't have known what had happened. the now dull ache in his temples and behind his lower forehead could not compete with the scrapes and bruises that now adorned his body. his lower half was notably more affected by what he could only assume was a tumble. the slope he had woken up resting against, it had no finality to it. the rock definitely extended gradually upward, he could feel that much by sliding his hand alongside it. unlike the earth below him, this was smooth, contrasted by the almost-sharp pebbles and the undulations in the surface below him. this one had yet to move even a meter, at most, from the position he woke up in. his head almost felt like it wanted to wobble off of his neck, for lack of better wording...he could not be bothered with eloquent phrases after whatever happened to him.

now, what was it that could have happened to him. if it was not persisting in his mind by his own intent, it was certainly haunting him by now. he could feel the thin flesh of his lids glide down, or even flutter at times, over those globes that rested inside his sockets. at once, he even made contact with his eye, his finger applying light pressure that, while uncomfortable, was completely normal for this type of behavior. there was no excess pain. there was no explanation. that is, for what was happening to him. his thoughts darted to every conceivable thing he'd heard from those men about the human body. they never actually taught him directly, but for certain it had imparted something.

well, that something was nothing that was important at the moment. at least, nothing he could summon up from the depths of his memory, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands clutching his head just enough to lightly pull his hair. something changed when he closed his eyes. it was something other than black. it wasn't dark. he wasn't seeing the back of his eyelids like he often knew.

it was when he opened them that he knew something was quite amiss with those eyes he had just accepted as a part of himself until now. the pain was receding, at least, but there wasn't even darkness any more. if someone had asked him what he was seeing, he could not have began to describe. that, however, made perfect sense: one cannot describe the visual aspect of seeing nothing. at first, he did not know what to think. his thoughts darted around his mind, wracking again what could be happening. after a short pause, nothing those men said mattered. it was fairly simple. my head hurts, i fell, i can't see. he wasn't going to be able to see any more, either; this conclusions both filled him with dread and set in a sense of calm. perhaps it was just that he knew what was happening, now. in a vague sense, anyhow, he could take a tiny bit of solace in having some grasp of the situation. it was better than being left in the proverbial dark, heh heh.

his right eye felt wet on the surface. it loosed a small line of liquid down the side of his face, which was warm yet oddly chilling. his chest rose and fell rapidly, what one might consider a 'chuckle' at his own internal monologuing. it very soon slowed, however, to what could easily be recognized as a 'sob'. he was going to just be a normal person who did odd jobs to get by. that reality faded as quickly as his vision did, and the truth of that was - to mos t- understandably an ordeal to accept. he didn't want this. few, knowing the implications, would say they did. a static-like chill rolled down his spine as the air in wherever-he-was shifted. there was a way out. that is, if he was 'in' anywhere at all.

his breaths were shaky, but he tried to take manual control of his diaphragm, steadying the tempo, at least. when he had convinced himself that he had, at the very minimum, was physically calmed down, he resolved to stand.

that was not a very good decision.

his head pounded as he stood, and he could feel his heart instantly shift into a working pace. his body was not as prepared as his mind was to function as a biped yet. this, of course, meant that his body was not ready at all, as despite his own internal steeling, he knew he really couldn't muster the willpower right now. the pain, save for the somewhat-gooey scrapes he had, was nearly gone. he'd sleep the night - whatever that meant now - and use his rest to get...somewhere.

his eyes closed again to the damp scent of earth, his mouth devoid of any saliva. so even the smell of water makes me thirsty. there it was again. that rise and fall of his chest.

but, he needed his rest. didn't anyone who fell like this? the softest dirt pile he could find, an airy bit of loam, would do his head a nice cushioning.

. . . .

his eyes flung themselves open. was that some sort of hope...? if it was, it was certainly misplaced. nothing changed. he couldn't even see that once dis-quieting darkness. to think it would now put at ease this fluttering he felt in his stomach almost made him chuckle again. but he froze his breathing for a second. if he laughed again now, it would only turn back....to that. here, with the same pseudo-cold and the same wetness, and an all-too-different nothingness....he couldn't tell how long he slept. the darkness might have receded now, but there was no way to tell.

he had to stand now. there was a welling in his abdomen, something he knew as 'defiance'. there was no one around to defy but himself. perhaps he was the one he needed to contradict in the first place, he mused. i probably could have gotten out of here yesterday. no use in lamenting, he set himself to standing. if he couldn't do that, he'd crawl his way out of here.

he laid his hands on the ground, feeling at that packed dirt below him, definitely hiding some stone. it was exposed, yet it was firmly packed, as it did not yield easily to his touch. it was not quite moist, either, despite the dank-ness that permeated the vicinity. he could feel his knees moving along this earth as well, and shifted to the balls of his feet and his toes. he slowly slit his hands backwards, towards his own body, as his weight rebalanced onto his legs. his legs slowly straightened - as much as they could while still being comfortable - to a bipedal position. good. he was standing. now, he wondered, for how long can i walk...

the response to the at query wasn't very clear. he couldn't see where he was going, or how far, for that matter. the subjective answer: six steps. he kept going until he found a wall, or something to lean against. he assumed it was either a wall of a building or the side of....some earthen formation. it was vertical, relatively smooth, with slight grooves in its surface.

walking was becoming easier, at least with a guide like this. he had a bit more time to think. how'd he get down here? why the hell did this come to be? well, he at least remembered their faces. it didn't mean much at this point. then again, neither did whatever they did. a fall like this wasn't the product of malice from those of his age. they didn't hate anyone enough to do this. yes, he remembered, it was his own fault. he would have to deal with that fact from now on. it was a small modicum of solace that he had no one to blame but himself. it meant he had no one to go after, no one to make atone. that was the stuff of stories, not what real life should be.

walk, walk, walk. at least he could still do that.

Mahikari

Mahikari


D-rank
There was no turning back at that point. Mahikari wondered to himself what the price on his head would be. He could not help but speculate on how high of a price would lead some of his so-called friends to try and kill him if he DID return in need of shelter. It was a better idea not to think that way at all, as it only reminded Mahi of what trouble being the "good person" had gotten him into at this stage.

His cloak waved briskly in the whipping winds. His face was fortunately not effected as his mask was at least weather resistant and the hood blocked out the harsher sun rays. It was rather disturbing to imagine making this same trek in the deserts of Sunagakure. That would've likely been several times more tiresome.

He chuckled to himself. The things ones mind would race to in order to distract from the monotonous task of traveling by foot. He couldn't even listen to his own footsteps, as they made no sound. Not even his shadow would offer company, for he didn't have one. He squinted his eyes and entered deep scientific thought.

"How does my bloodline allow sunlight to just ignore me and for my body to jsut somehow be transparent to it? Chakra was a dastardly thing. Not even those who studied it intensely were quite able to understand some of the bigger oddities about the way it operates. For instance, not only were his people genetically efficent killers with silent footsteps and no shadows, but they utilized a form of medicine so cruel and devious that it had earned them one hell of a bad reputation. Necrosis. They could essentially give a person fact acting cancer, and with high enough power the person could do nothing to stop the skin from tearing away like wrapping paper off of a fleshy, bloody gift.

He stopped thinking about that horrific tradition just in time to notice he was approaching a cave. It was actually a pretty massive cavern. A large dark hell-hole in the midst of the bright sunlit sky. A normal person would've sought shelter in that cave for momentary protection from the sun, but as a Karasu, his aura filled the surroundings with a radiant cold. He was almost never hot under natural conditions.

He was parched, though. If he had learned anything from his grizzled old father, it was surviving in the Iwagakure wilderness, and caves were often your best bet at finding a water source. With that in mind, Mahi kept his pace, making a small detour toward the large caverns.

As he entered the mouth of the cave, he could make out dripping, and further back he worried he was heading what were footsteps. Dismissing that as potential hallucination, he proceeded through the cave, as cold and silent as the night.

WC: 486

Gen

Gen


D-rank
it wasn't like he wanted to be ambling about like this. he only had the walls and the floor, his feet and hands connected, to tell him that this was "a way he could go". these were what he had. to think that once, they were just ends of his appendages, things that were just another part of his body. now they were as vital to him as anything he could name inside his chest. he would have to deal with it. his lack of vision was a part of who he was now. if someone could fix it, that'd be tremendous, but...he would not count on that. how could he? why ought he? there was nothing in this world that gave him enough hope that someone would have the goodwill to do something like that for a stranger.

thoughts like this may not have been good for him. he didn't have many other thoughts, right now, however, so he'd have to filter out that kind of negative thinking. his bare soles, balls, and toes set onto the ground that was now gradually hardening from loam into solid bedrock. the path curved. or, rather, the wall did. a dip, grotto, crevasse? he clicked his tongue, as he often was wont to do when he was frustrated or puzzled. perhaps it wasn't his tongue, per se, but the inner cheek and the space between the upper and lower teeth, particularly behind his molars. that airflow was a bit more apparent to him now. just a tad.

what else was apparent to him was a ripple in his void. it was as if darkness and light had just coalesced at a tiny point in the upper-left corner of his vision, and the collision had formed waves of....something. but he could see it. it was....something closer to happiness, purely an ecstatic feeling, that he'd felt in a long time. exhilaration. something completely new. he lost, but he gained. he blinked what he was quite sure were tears out of his eyes, and lo, the vision stayed! those restrictions on normal sight now in comparison seemed quite mundane. he hadn't used these muscles in a while, what one would consider 'smile'.

he felt the wind. a cool yet gentle pressure on the surface of his skin, weaving through his at-present tangled locks, swaying them slightly. it came from behind him, this breeze. that meant....he was going the wrong way. but his legs wouldn't stop moving. if he stopped walking, he wouldn't start again. the pah-pah-pah of his now slightly-callused feet was barely audible to him now, his steps growing lighter, or perhaps the ground again growing softer. his slightly ripped changshan let the now-stagnating air pass onto the crooks of his elbows, his pants quite the same. taking one of his hands off of the wall, he fumbled around his head, tossing most of his hair behind his shoulders. despite not being able to see, he still didn't like even a few strands in his face.

putting his hand back on the wall, cold now that he directed his attention to it.....he noticed another sound, the reason his steps were drowned out. almost literally, in fact, by the drip-drip-drip, the slow descent of water from a precarious height for a tiny droplet.

the musty air, the wetted stone below him. the smoothing surfaces his extremities so slid along. an underground lake, perhaps. a small burbling of liquids in motion, the songs of a stream, culminating as he approached in the sh-h-h-h-h-h-hhh of a waterfall, politely yet constantly silencing aught else in its presence. it was flowing, at least. it was the liquid nourishment that all humanity so required. his hand traveled to his abdomen, feeling for any peristalsis, that growling that told him he was hungry.

silence.

he needed no hand to feel the same for his throat, however: his raspy windpipe and gullet desperately needed some of that eau de vivre. he squatted, putting his hand to the ground, and began to crawl. as he felt his fingers dip, the honestly quite chilling liquid sent a jolt to his brain. a recoil, then a ginger re-submerging. twisting his wrist so his fingers pointed towards the surface from beneath, he rose his hand delicately and cupped it. lowering his neck and torso and tilting his head upwards, he let the water slide into his opening mouth.

the mineral taste was to be expected, drying his mouth almost more than thirst itself. yet there was a crispness he hadn't experienced from water, even of this temperature.

as he partook the clear and odorless liquid, his means of toping let it trickle slightly down his chin, wetting his slightly torn collar. at the end of his imbibement, he let out a long sigh, a prolonged gasp chasing it in slight.

835/2445.

Mahikari

Mahikari


D-rank
Upon entering the cave, he made out forward and to the right the sound of running water. It was a split path, forward or off to the right were his choices. Water was his one and only goal, and so the right path would just so happen to be the right path. Mahikari moved without sound through the large, slightly damp cavern. It was strange that so much dampness could even have existed out here in the middle of the parched wastes of the Iwagakure wilderness.

Mahi moved at a rather brisk pace, not wanting to let time get the better of him, as much life was at stake back at his home. Home. For Mahikari that was a place filled with pests, thieves, lepers and murderers. It was a wretched place. One didn't get to choose blood though. Was the place of his birth a place he had to call home? Would such a place as this cave have been more suitable a home than that which he currently deemed appropriate?

He shook his head and grunted slightly as he slid his hand along the wall and continued walking. This cavern turned out to be enormous. Moreso than what Mahikari has ever counted on. As quiet as he did move, some bats overhead seemed to flutter away in discontent as he passed beneath them, likely because due to his...curse, the air around him chilled so much and seemed to make things rather uncomfortable until adapted to.

The walls and inner workings of the large network of caverns were mostly reddish stone. The occasional gem formation would grab Mahi's attention only briskly, but soon even that didn't stop his advances, as the sound of water seemed just around the corner. In a more hurried fashion his fingers stopped tracing the wall as they left it, and he turned through a 15 meter tall opening off to the left and beheld a nicely sized waterfall. A spring, actually. He must have been slowly descending all throughout his venture through the cavern, as above ground there looked to be no possible way a spring would've been down here.

More alarming than the sight of a spring, though, was the person squatting down, scooping water up from it. Mahikari wasn't a fearful person when it came to other humans in particular. He struggled for a moment before speaking, as he realized the temperature in the room had likely chilled intensely and would maybe put his new acquaintance in an alarmed state.

He walked forward, still silently. Not knowing get what to say as he studied the individual. Their hair was long, appearing black from where Mahi stood. Most notably about this person was that he couldn't distinguish at all, even from the close proximity of only about 1 meter, whether or not this was a man or a woman. All features pointed to either. He decided it was odd enough to be gawking at this obviously battered person through a mask. He cleared his throat and prepared to communicate.

He stated with a more gentle tone, in an attempt not to startle the chance encounter of a human before they even laid eyes on the rather spooky mask adorning his face.

"It is more than a surprise to find a living human being down here. I come in peace, don't go panicking and making this an unnecessary scenes please."

He didn't say another word before moving forward, removing his mask, and taking a scoop of the water himself. The room temperature liquid was not bad, it was earthy as it gently rushed down his throat, some onto his face and over his cloak sloppily. He didn't care much at this point as he awaited the response of the stranger.

WC: 1126

Gen

Gen


D-rank
he didn't hear him. or was it her? perhaps the water's vertical flow and splash had muddled the steps? he was so engrossed in his drinking, perhaps, that he didn't listen even though he heard? it wasn't in his mind, even if it was the truth, that the person who had approached him made no sound. so how could he have? maybe this one was better-trained than he was. that was...a more likely probability than he would have liked to admit. he always thought a little too much in such a fashion, nitpicking every little detail. he couldn't tell if it was one of his better or worse qualities.

while he was enraptured by his own musings and thoughts, the figure that had broken the stagnant air had also broken the surface of the water with a light plish. still no hint as to what this was. he couldn't feel anything, except a chill that was remarkably different than the water. he had known it was there. but what it was, was beyond him. nothing had made him feel chills like this in the past. to say 'he didn't like it' would be a bit of an understatement, but he felt like he couldn't say anything at all. or do anything. he'd heard about it. the heightened perception of the other senses with the loss of sight, the primary modality the body uses. he didn't think he would feel so....intensely, though.

the chill enveloped the body, every last extremity shaking with the desperation to stay with some modicum of warmth. eyes widening, the possibility of death strayed into his thoughts, prying into his mind where it had little place. the vocal-silence was broken. lightly gravel-y, a tenor in pitch, with an even pace. he was either not going to kill, or he was very calm about it.


The Chilling Stranger wrote:"It is more than a surprise to find a living human being down here. I come in peace, don't go panicking and making this an unnecessary scene, please."

"well, then again. it's not often i feel someone before i can detect them otherwise. the less composed would be in a frenzy by now."

a not-high, yet not-low voice was what met the gruff sound. a bit slower, slightly airy in delievery, with almost deliberate yet minuscule pauses between each utterance.

the gulping of an open gullet, a slight trickle and plish the water made. they both partook, the same.

he gave out a slight sigh, then turned his head slightly to the source of this dialogue he had suspired, perhaps. time was strange when there was nothing to dictate it, even the sun and moon. his head straightened once again, to the source of that soothing, anchoring sound of water striking and yet reuniting with water.

his breathing returned to his own control. the chill did not leave him, but some small part of his uneasiness did. he was on his hands and his toes in some silly mockery of seiza, ready to bolt at any time if need be. it probably wouldn't be much help if he did, though. would he even be able to outrun this person? if he could, would he be able to go the right way?

his mind was abuzz and yet as naught.



570/3015.

Mahikari

Mahikari


D-rank
The individual before him responded, making notice of the fact that they felt Mahikari enter the room before they could otherwise detect him. Were they alluding to the fact that his footsteps couldn't be heard, or was Mahikari missing something vital? The individual directed his glance wandered slightly in the direction of the rogue's face. The crouched position and the body language gave away a slight fear. This person was clearly not here for a carefree hike through the mountains. Something was wrong.

Mahikari wanted to clear the air quickly, to try and relieve this stranger of any sort of apprehension.

"If I were going to kill you, for whatever reason, I would have done so unannounced and before you could react. I have no business with you, and have stumbled upon you by chance... You don't look in ship-shape, however. Are you hurt? How did you end up in this cave in your condition?

He was trying to give a sense of compassion but the gravel in his voice and the cold air about him didn't help too often with that. He stood to his feet and took a seat on a thick, circular rock. The cave was a nice break from the sun, though his journey was almost at an end, Iwagakure no sato was only a few more miles forth. If it weren't for this slightly puzzling person he'd discovered down in the depths of a cavern, he might just have already been on his way, but he was hardly just going to turn his back and walk out of there with no explanation at all.

WC: 268
Total: 1394
[OOC: short post is short]

Gen

Gen


D-rank
but it was not right, to sit here. 'right' being a non-functional word, perhaps. he didn't even know whether it was day or night, his vague and relative location to anything he knew on a map, or who this person next to him was. he couldn't even come to terms with his own reality; somewhere, though he was pushing it out of his thoughts, he was still musing over whether everything was going to be dark forever. a sort of denial: it's only temporary, i can get someone to heal this. in some fashions, maybe he was even justified in his thoughts. he had no right to say what, or who, was right.

it'd been so long since he'd stood, it felt. "for real", as one might put it. though, he supposed that his perception of time was off. it couldn't have been more than a day, could it have? the tightness and yet gap he felt, that emptiness, was not completely gone; he knew from experience that the longer one went without food, the less the feelings of hunger came. it was still at the forefront of his mind, to be sure, but it was not as if he was feeling it incessantly during these moments.

despite his silly musings on the subject of morality and his own knowledge, he knew he couldn't just sit here. that wasn't what human life was for. he supposed, a bit, that he didn't know that for a good portion of his life. there was time. he had plenty of it. he was wasting it here, however. perhaps not wasting....that would be a harsh judgment of this man. not this place, however. the moisture, the slowly piercing chill....for one such as him, that had already gone through a small bit of an ordeal....it was too dank here.

so he decided to leave. that figure that ever-so-not-calmly on his calves and heels did sit wasted no time in balancing his weight backward on his toes, which he lifted his heels to put in appropriate contact with the ground. tilting slightly backward, the legs supporting the rest shook; he knew not what to make of this. 'asleep', from his position? or was this a nightmare he didn't know he could get out of?

air, drawn in through his nose, hit the back of his at-the-moment-rather-stiff nasal palate. he couldn't relax right now....but his breathing was at least more quiet that it would have been otherwise. his diaphragm wouldn't allow him to make any large movements like taking a deep breath. he held this for seeming ages.

he contracted his abs, and even tightened his thighs and rear a bit, to straighten his form as his his knees un-bent. the former-most of these tasks was difficult, his stomach still turning in anticipation, perhaps even in fear. the air about this man, this aura....it distracted him so, he could not even focus on what he was saying. some drivel on the subject of being able to kill him without notice, and then switching to the topic of concern due to that appearance that so cloaked him. could 'trust' be any further from the word he would use in respect to the figure beside him, slightly in front?

he could hear him breathing. it was....unnerving. wrenching to his gut. he did the only thing he could: run, as fast as he could whilst touching the wall, this time the one opposite him, sadly nearest the gruff-voiced stranger. the wall kept its course straight, though he could feel an incline, his steps each ending at a bit more of an angle than before, that steepness stretching his ankles so oddly pleasantly, the utter blackness of the void stretching to reveal the tiniest facade of light behind it. that breathing, the distasteful palate, soon was cleansed in the most magnificent way: a blast of natural wind hit him, the gale painting vectors before him as the rays of the sun gave a glow that was quite unreal to him. so it was true: there was a light at the end of every tunnel. even if he couldn't see it himself, he was moved beyond any thought-form of words. a dark word dawned upon him, however: "man". specifically, that man. he disdained this fear, this ineptitude. for what was a human without agency?

he kept walking. it was the only consequential thing he might be doing now.

"Keep walking," said the young man, Nakano Gen.

~Gen left the Thread.~

775/3790
75+150+225+300=750.
750*5=3750.
all stats trained to D-0 from E-0.

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