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Extending his grasp [Training] Wed Dec 05, 2012 7:22 pm
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Day One
Trilby fiddled with the binding on his headband, tightening it's grasp on his neck. Special Jounin. It seemed like it had been a century since he first joined the academy, a scared child who wanted the power to grasp the world in his hands and protect what he loved. ”Your form is weak! You lack discipline!” Tanzo bellowed out, a clear undertone of frustration. ”AGAIN!” Tanzo formed the boar seal, and six small stone balls shot out of the ground at his feet, flying into the air. Trilby raised his hands, quickly performing a string of hand seals. Dog, Boar, Bird. The rock at Trilby's feet shot up in six solid shafts of stone, rocketing for the stone balls, which were now beginning to fall. The sound crack of stone piercing stone rang out as three of the spears pierced the balls, while the rest shattered against the ground. Trilby swore silently under his breath. They had been doing this for hours now, and while he had improved to a degree, his form and control over his ninjutsu was still incredibly sloppy. ”Pathetic... We're done.” His sensei said with a sigh. Tanzo's disappointment was clear. Trilby could weave seals with ease, yet his ninjutsu control was sloppy at best, he lacked the pinpoint accuracy he needed to maser the more advanced techniques.
The moon was hung high in the air over the Tsumi Training grounds. Trilby sat there in frustration. No amount of penetrating rocks or apples with spears would make him any more accurate, this was an issue of his control rather than of his accuracy. Until he improved his ability to manipulate and convert chakra, he would never get anywhere. Spread out before him, Trilby had a several of, well, training materials, shall we say. A phone book and a stack of parchment paper. Taking up a strip of parchment paper, Trilby pressed it between the palms of his hands. Trilby focused intently, the charkra channels in his fingers pulsing with energy as he focused his chakra into an infinitely fine edge. Trilby could always perform wind based techniques, but his execution was sloppy at best. During his genin days, he would practice cutting leaves in half, but he could never get a perfect split, only jagged tears through the centre, an imperfect cut unworthy of the power of wind. The paper let out a loud splitting noise, as a jagged zig-zag pattern tore it's way through the side of the paper, stopping halfway. A slight pink tint seeped through the paper he was grasping. Tossing it aide, he saw the wind he was channelling had overshot slightly, carving a slight imprint of a zig-zag pattern into the surface of his hand. Trilby grasped a new piece of parchment, pinning it between his hands. The rip of paper sounded once more, and the paper he was holding split in two, a large zig-zag gash through the narrow end. Trilby jumped a bit as he cut deeper into his hand. Leaves were simple targets, tiny, required a small amount of fine wind to cut, whereas the paper required a larger wave, it was harder to keep it focused. Trilby wiped the blood from his hand, putting pressure on the wound as he gathered his things. Tomorrow would be a better day. It had to be.
Day Two
Trilby sat in the sand, dumping his flak-jacket at his side. The sun had just risen and it was a fantastic day for training. Drawing the stack of paper from the sack at his feet, he peeled off a single sheet of parchment from the stack. The gash on his hand from the previous night had already begun to heal over. The issue was clear, he had overreached. Trying to do it in one swing was excessive and stupid. He would have to start small, light cuts in the paper to get the depth right, then increase the length. Placing his hands over the surface of the paper, he focused, sending small bursts of fine air chakra from the tips of his fingers. The paper curled in his hand, crinkling. The wind had been too weak, instead of slicing, it simply deformed the surface of the paper. Again, a new parchment was selected. The sound of paper being separated rung out, a familiar tune. A small gash, spanning only a few inches carved it's way through the paper. It was straight, and unlike the others it didn't leave his palms bleeding. Progress was progress, he figured. His following attempts were consistent, increasing in length compared to the previous cut by roughly an inch or two per cut, until eventually the page tore in two.
Mid-day, it was time for lunch. Trilby was worn out from his morning training. Reaching into his ruck sack, he produced a small rectangle packet, covered in silver plastic. Tearing through the top of the packet, he revealed a sort of paste, with chunks of meat in it. Rations. They weren't appealing, but they were effective. Tossing aside the now empty container of rations, Trilby turned his focus back to his training. He had split one piece of paper in half, cleaning down the centre. Now, he had to increase the thickness, by using multiple sheets at once. Taking five pieces of parchment into his hand, Trilby grasped the stack of paper tightly, focusing his chakra into a thin blade which he quickly dragged across the surface of the paper. The blade tore through the paper, digging through the first three pages entirely and leaving a slash on the fourth. Replacing the cut pieces, Trilby focused his chakra. Another slash. All five pieces were cut, but the line was less perfect than the others, a slight ripple in it's edge. Ten pages, eight cut, still a slight wobble in the edge. Ten pages, eight cut, straight edge. Ten pages, ten cut, straight edge. Paper had outlived it's usefulness.
The sun set in the distance, and Trilby's work for the day was done. He had no chakra left to use, and he was starving for some good food. Stashing his equipment, he went off to town. Tomorrow would be just as fit for training, given some rest.
Trilby fiddled with the binding on his headband, tightening it's grasp on his neck. Special Jounin. It seemed like it had been a century since he first joined the academy, a scared child who wanted the power to grasp the world in his hands and protect what he loved. ”Your form is weak! You lack discipline!” Tanzo bellowed out, a clear undertone of frustration. ”AGAIN!” Tanzo formed the boar seal, and six small stone balls shot out of the ground at his feet, flying into the air. Trilby raised his hands, quickly performing a string of hand seals. Dog, Boar, Bird. The rock at Trilby's feet shot up in six solid shafts of stone, rocketing for the stone balls, which were now beginning to fall. The sound crack of stone piercing stone rang out as three of the spears pierced the balls, while the rest shattered against the ground. Trilby swore silently under his breath. They had been doing this for hours now, and while he had improved to a degree, his form and control over his ninjutsu was still incredibly sloppy. ”Pathetic... We're done.” His sensei said with a sigh. Tanzo's disappointment was clear. Trilby could weave seals with ease, yet his ninjutsu control was sloppy at best, he lacked the pinpoint accuracy he needed to maser the more advanced techniques.
The moon was hung high in the air over the Tsumi Training grounds. Trilby sat there in frustration. No amount of penetrating rocks or apples with spears would make him any more accurate, this was an issue of his control rather than of his accuracy. Until he improved his ability to manipulate and convert chakra, he would never get anywhere. Spread out before him, Trilby had a several of, well, training materials, shall we say. A phone book and a stack of parchment paper. Taking up a strip of parchment paper, Trilby pressed it between the palms of his hands. Trilby focused intently, the charkra channels in his fingers pulsing with energy as he focused his chakra into an infinitely fine edge. Trilby could always perform wind based techniques, but his execution was sloppy at best. During his genin days, he would practice cutting leaves in half, but he could never get a perfect split, only jagged tears through the centre, an imperfect cut unworthy of the power of wind. The paper let out a loud splitting noise, as a jagged zig-zag pattern tore it's way through the side of the paper, stopping halfway. A slight pink tint seeped through the paper he was grasping. Tossing it aide, he saw the wind he was channelling had overshot slightly, carving a slight imprint of a zig-zag pattern into the surface of his hand. Trilby grasped a new piece of parchment, pinning it between his hands. The rip of paper sounded once more, and the paper he was holding split in two, a large zig-zag gash through the narrow end. Trilby jumped a bit as he cut deeper into his hand. Leaves were simple targets, tiny, required a small amount of fine wind to cut, whereas the paper required a larger wave, it was harder to keep it focused. Trilby wiped the blood from his hand, putting pressure on the wound as he gathered his things. Tomorrow would be a better day. It had to be.
Day Two
Trilby sat in the sand, dumping his flak-jacket at his side. The sun had just risen and it was a fantastic day for training. Drawing the stack of paper from the sack at his feet, he peeled off a single sheet of parchment from the stack. The gash on his hand from the previous night had already begun to heal over. The issue was clear, he had overreached. Trying to do it in one swing was excessive and stupid. He would have to start small, light cuts in the paper to get the depth right, then increase the length. Placing his hands over the surface of the paper, he focused, sending small bursts of fine air chakra from the tips of his fingers. The paper curled in his hand, crinkling. The wind had been too weak, instead of slicing, it simply deformed the surface of the paper. Again, a new parchment was selected. The sound of paper being separated rung out, a familiar tune. A small gash, spanning only a few inches carved it's way through the paper. It was straight, and unlike the others it didn't leave his palms bleeding. Progress was progress, he figured. His following attempts were consistent, increasing in length compared to the previous cut by roughly an inch or two per cut, until eventually the page tore in two.
Mid-day, it was time for lunch. Trilby was worn out from his morning training. Reaching into his ruck sack, he produced a small rectangle packet, covered in silver plastic. Tearing through the top of the packet, he revealed a sort of paste, with chunks of meat in it. Rations. They weren't appealing, but they were effective. Tossing aside the now empty container of rations, Trilby turned his focus back to his training. He had split one piece of paper in half, cleaning down the centre. Now, he had to increase the thickness, by using multiple sheets at once. Taking five pieces of parchment into his hand, Trilby grasped the stack of paper tightly, focusing his chakra into a thin blade which he quickly dragged across the surface of the paper. The blade tore through the paper, digging through the first three pages entirely and leaving a slash on the fourth. Replacing the cut pieces, Trilby focused his chakra. Another slash. All five pieces were cut, but the line was less perfect than the others, a slight ripple in it's edge. Ten pages, eight cut, still a slight wobble in the edge. Ten pages, eight cut, straight edge. Ten pages, ten cut, straight edge. Paper had outlived it's usefulness.
The sun set in the distance, and Trilby's work for the day was done. He had no chakra left to use, and he was starving for some good food. Stashing his equipment, he went off to town. Tomorrow would be just as fit for training, given some rest.
Word Count: 1036
Hokage: 
Kazekage: 
Raikage: 
Tsuchikage: 
Mizukage: 