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1Dreamchasers, pt 1. [Private | Training] Empty Dreamchasers, pt 1. [Private | Training] Tue Jul 04, 2017 12:54 am

Akusha

Akusha


D-rank
The room was entirely silent save for a fan that was running on high in the corner; glorious background white noise – one of the most perfect ways to fall asleep. The bedroom door was shut and locked; though that was for nothing more than comfort purposes since the small one bedroom apartment was otherwise unoccupied save for the single resident who was currently lying in bed; in a massive tangle of sheets and blankets, most of which had been thrown off and onto the floor at one point or another during the night when it had got far too hot for them despite the fan being on.

The individual on the bed was fast asleep; utterly oblivious to the glorious quietness of the house save for the random creaks of floorboards that were all too natural. Or rather, it was quiet until the next door neighbors began fighting for the third time in the past twenty for hours. The drunken bastard of a husband had come back from a mission – a fallen from grace shinobi who couldn’t get a job or mission worth anything anymore because he spent his time more often than not drunk, but whom could not admit when it was time to just finally hang up his hat headband and call it a day – and had spent most of the night out with buddies trying to relive old stories of the glories of old. So, when he had returned home at seven o’clock in the morning with absolutely no idea of the time let alone the day, the first thing he had done was slam the door shut so hard even Kayn’s windows rattled – but thankfully he didn’t waken. The drunk had then proceeded to storm into the kitchen, throwing around pots and pans in rage because there was no supper sitting out, nice and hot, for him to devour. “What the fuck, woman? I’m gone for all of a few hours and you just start being completely lazy? Where are you, woman?!”

Through the muffled walls that divided Kayn’s apartment from the drunken bastards, who was now storming down the hallway and toward the bedroom, came a reply too soft and muffled to understand. Whatever the ‘woman’ as known as the drunks wife, had responded with however caused a bellow of rage to leave the drunk that had Kayn twitching in his sleep: the only saving grace being the fan that was still continuing to run, helping to blend the rage of the drunk with the rest of the background noise: chances were it wasn’t going to last though.

“You stupid, fucking bitch! What did you say to me?! Come here! I’ll teach you to talk like that!” The response to the bellow was a loud scream; piercing even the walls and far louder than the fan. Instead of just twitching Kayn jumped this time, startled, and awoke with a start. Lifting his head up off of the pillow and blinking into the darkness around him – black out curtains for the win – as he laid on his stomach he tried to pin point exactly what had awoken him.

“Get back here! Don’t you run away from me!” Kayn blinked at the screaming, wondering why he was being yelled at since he was, in fact, not running anywhere and was still very much sprawled out on his stomach. However, the next scream followed by fast thundering footsteps answered his question and helped to give him some much needed grounding as to what was going on: the neighbors were fighting again, and from the slurred speech the bastard had spent the night drinking and had likely just woken his wife up for one reason or another in his stupidity and rage. With a groan Kayn grabbed his pillow, moving it out from underneath of his face and bringing it up and over his head; squeezing the sides down around his ears in an attempt to drown the couple out as the wife now began to scream back and yell profanities just the same as the drunken shinobi was. Unfortunately, no amount of of downy goodness was going to drown out the couple since they were literally on the other side of his bedroom wall at this point.

“What did you say to me?!”

“I said don’t you fucking touch me!”

“Get over here and say that to my face, woman!”

“Get out. You’re drunk. Go back to the bar with your buddies!”

“Where’s my dinner!”

“I threw it out because it sat out until midnight! It’s seven o’clock in the morning you idiot!”

“I wouldn’t care if it was noon! You don’t throw out my dinner, woman! Now get into that damn kitchen and make me something to eat!”

“No! I’m going back to bed! Go make yourself your own damn food! I’m not doing it.”

“You’ll get back into that kitchen or I’ll drag you back in there!”

Okay, Kayn had had enough. It was far too early for this shit. He didn’t care who made who some food at this point, he just wanted both of his neighbors to shut the hell up so that he could go back to sleep. While thinking that it was definitely time to find a new place to live he got up out of bed with a groan and headed towards his bedroom door only to pause: he was naked. While he was still angry, there was no way he was just going to go charging over next doors with his bits and pieces hanging out: that would lead to some awkwardness he didn’t want to explain to the authorities later on. So, grumbling under his breath Kayn reached over and snatched a pair of shorts off the top of the pile of clean laundry still sitting in the basket on top of the chair; they were put on with haste before he unlocked his bedroom door and wrenched it open. As the neighbors started a new round of cursing and swearing at each other, yelling and stomping, Kayn stormed through his apartment and to the front door which was wrenched open with the same kind of quickness and force his bedroom door had been. From there he crossed the few feet to the next door neighbors door and raised a closed hand. Beating on the door with a fist he waited for someone to answer; when no one did right away he waited until there was a pause in the screeching, screaming, and cursing to do the same once again.

“Who the hell is it?! Go answer the fucking door, woman.”

“No! You go answer the door!”

With anger surging through him Kayn raised his fist and beat on the door once more. “Open. The. Door.”, he bit out, ensuring his voice was loud enough that both could hear it. He heard footsteps after a moments pause and then the door was opened slowly and hesitantly. Standing there in the doorway, peaking around the door with slightly fearful eyes was the lady of the house, behind her, craning his neck to see who was there was the drunken bastard who had started the whole ordeal in the first place – not that Kayn knew that for certain since he had been asleep when it had started, but it was a safe enough guess considering he never heard the female otherwise when it was just her that was home alone. Considering the woman got yelled at enough, and finding the man pathetic for basically hiding behind his wife and forcing her to answer the door, he lifted his left hand and wiggled his finger at the man in a ‘come here’ type gesture and motion. The man approached, pausing once he was standing right behind his wife; a good head taller than her. “I do not want to hear your mouth again, do you hear me? I am sick and tired of being woken up to your drunk ass starting a fight with her. In fact, I’m tired of hearing how you treat her, period. When she’s by herself I don’t hear anything at all, so before you start thinking to blame everything on her you need to rethink that little issue. You need to lay off the booze or move out and leave that lady alone. If I have to come over here one more time I’m going to hurt you… Now goodnight.” With that said Kayn reached forward, grasping the handle of their front door and pulling it shut, taking a moment to savor the fact that there was stunned silence on the other side instead of the yelling and cursing that had been going on before.

With a sigh Kayn turned and headed back into his own apartment, the door of which he had left open. He closed and locked the door behind himself, crossed through the kitchen and living room, and back into his bedroom – pausing to stop at the attached bathroom to relieve his bladder before stripping out of his shorts and falling face first back onto the bed. He thought it would take him a while to go back to sleep despite the fact that the neighbors were now completely silent simply because he was so pissed off, but soon enough sleep was claiming him and he was falling into a dream the likes of which nightmares were made of: “Seize him!”, the command was issued from a deep, throaty voice that had Kayn turning around and glancing behind him. The man giving the commands was masked and cloaked, much like those with him: five in total. In a wolf pack formation they moved in to follow the command they had been given, their leader bringing up the rear. Kayn didn’t remain still, though. he had no idea what they wanted with him but he wasn’t about to find out that easily. Knowing that the crowded market he was in would only slow him down he jumped onto a barrel, from there onto an awning, and then finally after a final jump onto the roof of a two story building. he took off like a bullet fired from a gun after that, running across the tops of different roofs, leaping and jumping over the gaps between the buildings, and scaling walls when he needed to move higher. Those chasing after him never slowed.

Kayn was fast, but they were faster… and there were so many.

He had made it roughly six blocks when he was seized from behind and found herself unable to move: not just out of physical restraint, but because of a technique him captor had immediately put into play to keep him from fighting him off. he found that at most he could move him eyes and open him mouth – which he used quite vulgarly the moment the leader of this little group stepped up in front of him, flanked by the others. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Release me this instant!”

His language gained him a response he hadn’t been expecting; a back hand to him face that was hard enough to have him ears ringing and him momentarily seeing stars. Unfortunately for him captors him warped mind immediately turned pain into pleasure, causing him to shake off the feeling with a relative quickness others would have not been so lucky to have. “I said get your fucking hands off of ---” him throat was seized in a vice like grip next, the hand holding it squeezing just enough to play keep away with him oxygen.

Leaning in to him face so that he could smell his rancid breath as he opened his mouth the leader of the group spoke, “Shut up and listen to me or I’ll kill you where you stand. You have been captured because there is a warrant for your arrest: you’ve been charged with the murders of twenty seven orphans in the fire you set last night. We are going to take you to prison where you will be held until our orders come in on how we’re to deal with you. If, on the way there you get mouthy, or try and escape? I’ll cut you down where you stand right then and there. Now, do you understand me?”

Kayn was red in the face from the lack of oxygen, and him head was spinning, by the time him captor finally released his hold on him throat. he gasped, drawing in much needed oxygen into him lungs and panting in the process. As soon as he could respond he did, “I understand, but I did not murder any children...”. Really, what chance he did have? The technique that had been used on him was keeping him from being unable to move, and considering him captors were all wearing masks it wasn’t like he could try mind fucking the whole lot of them into releasing him. No, if he wanted to survive whatever was about to happen to him then he was going to have to play along… and hope he came out the winner.

“I care not for the lies you speak, deviant. The proof is more than sufficient against you. Your lies will get you nowhere...” A black, thick hood was pulled over Kayn’s face before he could respond, a cord around the bottom tightened against him throat and tied until he couldn’t peak. The hood not only made it impossible to see out of, thus keeping him from seeing where it was he was being led, but it also effectively made it hard for him to breath which meant he couldn’t keep arguing him side if he wanted to keep conscious.

him captors were fast as they moved him, and even though Kayn tried to mentally map the directions they were going it proved difficult. Several times he was sure they doubled back, or went in a complete circle or figure eight just to keep the confusion up. In fact, with how long it took despite the fast pace at which they were moving Kayn found herself nearing unconsciousness from the lack of air under the hood: him face soaked in sweat which was beading down him face and drenching the neckline of the hood, several drips tickling the bridge of him nose as they hung them swaying from the movement until they too dripped down and drenched the thick cloth.

After what seemed like hours, but which was only twenty five minutes or so, him captors came to a stop with him and he heard the sound of steel slapping. Following this came a dank smell and a cold draft. There was a pause and then Kayn was dragged blindly forward several yards before the sound of steel slamming came once more, this time from behind him. Another steel door was opened in front of him followed by more dragging, and twists and turns as him captors led him down confusing hallways meant to further confuse and disorientate.

Finally just as unconsciousness started to claim him he found herself being thrown forward, where he landed sprawled – hands going out in front of him to break him fall as him body slapped into what was clearly concrete. Disorientated and confused he found herself unable to move as the hood was quickly untied and yanked forcefully off of him head, leaving a burning sensation on him ears as it was harshly tugged over them. Another slapping of steel came from near him feet and he finally turned herself over, blinking as him eyes adjusted from the darkness of the hood to the dim light around him.

Objects came into focus and he found herself staring at a very crude cell: a metal rectangle was bolted into the walls, clearly meant to be a bed due to the lumpy uncomfortable looking mattress upon it. A toilet, likewise made out of metal, was hidden behind a half wall for privacy with a sink on the other side. him cell door was a very thick sheet of nothing but steel with a tiny three by three square hole which had a piece of metal slid in front of it from the outside of the door so that he couldn’t see out of it. From the ceiling hung a single bulb on a thick wire, though there seemed to be no string for him to turn it on or off: clearly he didn’t control the lighting, they did.

Slowly getting herself up and off of the floor Kayn checked to ensure he was uninjured: there was nothing wrong with him, outside of being disheveled from rough handling, and bruises up around him arms where he had been physically held. With a sigh he looked around before backing up and over to the make shift bed, him knees giving out the moment they made contact with the metal. he placed him elbows on him knees, dropping him head into him hands. “How the fuck do I get myself out of this?”, Kayn would mutter beneath him breath, utterly stumped as to how he got herself into this situation. he hadn’t burned down an orphanage, and he certainly hadn’t murdered all of those children. Yet, him captor had said he had proof? Someone was framing him, and apparently they were doing a damn good job at it.

Rubbing him face and thinking that sulking over him situation was going to get him nowhere him years of training went into effect. he got back to him feet and for the next several hours paced him cell, memorizing every inch of it, checking every single inch of it for anything that was loose or that could give away. There was nothing. No bolts to be unscrewed, no metal to be honed into a weapon. No secret hole he could try and squeeze herself through. he was thoroughly and completely stuck in that cell.

For the next few following days Kayn kept searching though, kept looking for some way out. he tried figuring out the schedule of which the meals were brought, but there was no pattern – or perhaps the lack of a pattern was a pattern in and of itself.

The only thing that kept him sane was the thought of Daremo: the need to escape for him. he couldn’t leave him… he couldn’t do that to him. The very thought of it sickened him, but it also gave him motivation to continue – to keep looking. To keep trying for a way out: if not for herself then for him.


Outside of meals which were slid through a tray slot in the door he hadn’t noticed right away Kayn never got an actual visitor; no contact at all with the outside world beyond him cell. Therefore Kayn was quite surprised when during the ‘lights out’ period of time one evening him cell door was thrown open and a hood was quickly thrown over him face. Before he could struggle or attempt to escape the same technique used on him when he had first been captured was used once again and he found herself utterly paralyzed and incapable of movement. Kayn was then dragged out of him cell, noting it seemed to be only one person with the position in which he was being dragged, instead of a guard of them.

He wasn’t taken far before he blindly found herself in another room, him hands being surrounded with rope tied in an intricate knot. him arms were then hoisted up over him head, so high that he was forced to stand on the very tips of him toes least he be dangling in mid air. him shoulders would have been screaming in protest if it weren’t for the fact that him mind once more turned pain into pleasure: leaving only a pleasurable sensation as if he had just gotten a massage instead.

“So, it seems you’ve finally been sentenced… you’re going to die tomorrow night at sundown. Public too…” As the man spoke Kayn was aware that he was moving around the room, as well as the sound of a bolt being slid into place: had he just locked them in together? He could hear some items being shifted nearby, but couldn’t pin point from the noise what they were. Was he about to be tortured?

“You and I are going to have a bit of fun before you die… you see, I like hurting people, but it’s not often I get to do it. The prisoners complain if I torture them, and there’s always all these rules about having to treat them humanely. But you? You’ll be dead soon regardless, so it doesn’t matter.” A shiver ran up Kayn’s spine as he listened to his captors footsteps move away, indicating he was heading off somewhere else in the room. Silence followed, a silence that seemed to be drawn out and that lasted for forever – or rather only five minutes or so. Footsteps returned then, followed by a chuckle. The air stirred, indicating that his captor was circling around him, but no pain came as Kayn had been expecting: was his captor losing his nerve? Or was this part of the game he was playing?

It happened so fast then that Kayn hadn’t been expecting it. Something small but wicked sharp sliced along the left side of his torso, causing a sting and a trickle he knew to be blood flowing. One slice after another came, each one causing the same sting, the same trickle. It wasn’t until a sharp sharp jab to his back did the dream fade to black...


With another startle Kayn woke up, finding not a knife being plunged into his back as it had been in his dream, but rather his new pet kitten kneading on him. “Gah, getcho fluffy butt off of me...”, Kayn growled, not having the heart to pick up and throw the kitten as he would have anything else that was ‘attacking’ him in such a manner. Reaching behind himself he plucked the kitten up, bringing the little bundle of fur up by his face and glaring at it. The kitten, completely unperturbed by it, simply meowed at him and pawed at his nose. “You want food?” The kitten meowed again, purring. “Ugh. Fine… I’ll go spoil you in a minute. Run along and play somewhere...” The kitten meowed again and Kayn frowned, “Don’t you back talk me...”, he grumbled, chuckling at himself and his own lunacy. God, he was having a conversation with a cat, and responding to a cats meowing – he was almost as crazy as those silly Inuzuka – then again, they really could talk to their dogs so maybe he wasn’t. Was that his fate? He would become the cat whisperer.

Shaking his head at his own crazy self he rolled over onto his back and stretched out with a groan, noticing for the first time all morning that his blankets and sheets were not on the bed with him. Lifting his head up he saw them littered upon the ground where he had apparently kicked them all off: was that before or after his horrible nightmare? With a groan he shifted on the bed so that his legs were hanging off the side of the bed, feet barely brushing the floor that was pleasantly cool for once instead of too hot or too cold. With the air from the fan hitting him it was enough to help push him more awake, and as Kayn sat there he thought over exactly what he wanted to do for the day: a shower and breakfast were a must, and he also wanted to get some sort of training done at some point in the day – even though he was fairly sore from the bout of training he had done just the day prior, he also wanted to grab up a newspaper and start looking for another place to live – he might have scared the shit out of his neighbors and caused them to be quiet for now but it wouldn’t stop the next episode from happening as sure as the sun would rise tomorrow.




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Last edited by Kayn on Tue Jul 04, 2017 6:06 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Corrected Word Counts)

Akusha

Akusha


D-rank
With somewhat of a plan formulated within his mind of what he wanted to do Kayn rose up off of the bed and before even taking one step forward found himself having to stretch skyward; even going so far as to stand on the tips of his toes as his fingertips brushed the ceiling above him. “Ugh...”, a single word, or noise rather, would break the silence, which had him curious and over-thinking for a moment as he stood there. He glanced back to the wall behind him – the one his bed was resting up against – wondering if he would even see his neighbors at all today, or if they would stay hauled up and quiet in their apartment until they were sure he was gone. Shaking his head at the thought, and rethinking about just how much he needed to find another place to live, he glanced about his room while making a step by step of what he wanted to do before leaving the house: the first of which was getting a shower, no matter how much his stomach was currently grumbling that would be the first thing to get done.

Walking over to his dresser he grasped the handle of the top most drawer only to find that it didn’t open at his light touch. With a frown forming on his face he gave it a tug, then another, and then another before the drawer finally – stuffed with boxer shorts – opened. Shaking his head he tugged out a pair and then shut the drawer most of the way before moving down the drawer beneath the first. This one opened without issue and from it he tugged a black T-shirt before closing it and moving onward to the last which was opened quite easily and from which a black pair of pants was pulled before it too was closed. With his clothing laid out in a near pile on top of the dresser – boxer shorts, then his black t-shirt, and finally his black pants – he looked around for towel: his favorite in a way considering it was huge, actually properly dried him off, and could wrap around his waist with ease if he ever had to get out of the shower in a hurry – not that anyone actually bothered him.

He located his target after a moment of searching draped over the back of the desk chair, exactly where he had left it the day before when he had come racing back into his bedroom from the shower after having realized he was going to be late. Snatching the towel up he headed off into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself simply to keep the steam from affecting the rest of the room as he turned on the water and allowed the solid hot water to run for a good few minutes to get the bathroom nice and warm and steamy before adjusting it to a more proper temperature: still hot, but not the scalding burning it would have been. Stepping into the shower Kayn closed the sliding glass door behind him self and stepped underneath of the spray, allowing it to just run along and down his body; enjoying the massaging feeling of it on his back before he dipped his head underneath and just let it run through his hair and drip down to join the rest of the water pooling by his feet before heading down the drain. His hair wasn’t very long, but long enough that when it was wet he could just see the black colored tips in front of his face when he looked up. As he stood in the shower he thought back to the dream that he had had, getting glimpses of it within his mind. The first glimpse came from the very beginning; the call to seize him, the way he had been chased and caught in a technique that he was sure was the temporary paralysis technique – though how some regular police force knew that he didn’t know. He could picture it all vividly: the way they snatched him up, then the hood being put over top of his head – how he could barely breath, and was sure that if he struggled too hard he was likely to suffocate or at least lose consciousness: in fact he nearly had by the time they had reached the prison – at least he was assuming it was a prison. Then there had been that cell. No normal civilian had built that place: it was done up like some kind of miniature fortress – there hadn’t been a single way for him to escape – no stone left unturned. The fact that there was no sort lose bolts, nothing he could fashion into a weapon – it was all weird, and it hadn’t been for a lack of trying either, he had been pretty inventive in his dream on how exactly he was trying to manage to escape. Then there had been what came after that; the fact that he had been dragged out of the cell by a psychopath intent on torturing him: apparently he had been sentenced despite the fact that he hadn’t been tried: no trial, no nothing, he had simply been blamed for a horrific crime – burning an orphanage to the ground and killing a bunch of innocent children – and then sentenced to death in the form of a public execution. The man who had wanted to torutre him had had to do so in secret; apparently he had tried it with other prisoners but there had been complaints made about his unfair and downright wrong treatment. But Kayn wasn’t going to be spared that – no, not at all, because he had been sentenced to die so it wouldn’t matter. There would have been no time to file a report, no time for an investigation into him showing up with random cuts and bruises – not that he had ever saw or talked to anyone while in the cell, even the method and plan of the meals had been random bursts that made no sense and were nearly impossible to track – something which with enough logic and maybe a bit of crazy thrown it would have eventually ended up making sense. But, alas, he had been dragged out of the room to be tortured before being killed – and the man had played the game well. Leaving Kayn waiting, wondering when it would happen, then striking without warning, cutting him and slicing him… until that damn cat had woken him up by kneading on his back – right, he had to feed the cat, he couldn’t forget that.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts Kayn realized he must’ve been standing in the shower for quite some time; his fingers had pruned quite a bit and the glass and mirror beyond it that hung over the sink were both fogged up. Grumbling to himself beneath his breath he picked up his bottle of scentless shampoo, squirting a decent bit into the palm of his hand before shutting and closing the lid and then placing the bottle back on the built in shelf of the shower. He rubbed his hands together and then deposited the white thick liquid into his hair, rubbing it over every single inch and causing it to get good and bubbly. Once he was sure every single inch of his black hair was properly coated in the soap he stuck his head back under the water, head tilted back to keep the soap and water mixture out of his eyes as it was combined, and allowed the water to rinse his hair clean – raising his hands and running them through his hair every so often to make sure that all of the soap was good and out. Once he was sure that it was all rinsed out properly and completely from his hair Kayn went ahead and picked up the bottle of condition, scentless like the shampoo, that was sitting next to the bottle of shampoo. He flipped the top off, deposited a small amount into his palm, and then closed the lid and put the bottle of conditioner back onto the shelf next to the shampoo – having to pause a moment to ensure the bottle didn’t try and fall off and into the tub. Once satisfied that neither the conditioner or shampoo would fall he rubbed his hands together once more and deposited the load into his hair, ensuring that he ran his fingers through his hair to make sure that every single strand was coated, and that none was left untouched. Once satisfied, and deciding to let the conditioner sit in his hair for a few minutes to give it a chance to work, he grabbed up the fresh washcloth he had laid out the day before and picked up some mild scented body wash with a little forest scene printed onto the front of it – probably something to do with the scent it had. After wetting the wash cloth in the spray from the shower head he flipped the lid of the bottle open, deposited a good sized amount onto the cloth, and then closed the lid again before putting the body wash back onto the shelf – where it promptly fell and he had to pick it up again with another grumble. Once he was sure though that it wouldn’t fall again Kayn rubbed the wash cloth against itself and got it good and bubbly before beginning to wash off his body: starting at his face, then moving down to his neck, then down to his shoulders, onto his arms, then onto his stomach and chest, and following that with some weird contortionist type movements his back. From there he moved on lower to his hips, down his thighs, the backs and fronts of his calves, and then while holding on to the shower wall for support – not that that would do much considering how slick the tile was from the shower – he cleaned the tops and bottoms of his feet. Once he was sure every inch of himself was properly coated in the lightly scented mixture he pushed the washcloth beneath the water, letting it rinse all of the soap suds out until the water ran clear and free. Satisfied he hung the thing back up on one of the bars in the tub so that it could drip dry later on when he was finished, and then stepped underneath of the spray of the water; tilting his head back as he placed his face in first, letting the water run down and clean his face from the soap, as well as the front of his body. He turned then first to the left, raising his arm so that the under side and his arm pit could be clear of soap, and then to the right, raising his arm so that the under side and his arm pit could be clear of soap too. Following this he turned around, letting the water rinse off the back of his body before tilting his head back and allowing the water to rinse the conditioner from his hair, lifting his hands and running them through the short black locks to ensure that every inch of hair was properly cleansed so that there would be no excess build up of the conditioner. Once he was satisfied that all of the conditioner was out of his hair – leaving it silky soft and very smooth and untangled – and that the soap suds were completely off of his body leaving him utterly and completely clean – he turned around once more and made quick work with turning off the facets and shutting off the shower; starting with the cold water first – he would rather scald and burn himself after all than risk freezing himself out of the shower. With the water off, and only the sound of the water dripping from the walls, glass sliding doors, and the wash cloth he had hung up, Kayn opened up the shower, wincing against the cold that assaulted his naked and wet flesh.

Grumbling to himself he stepped out, only adding to his grumbles at the cold assault from the floor – he had forgot to put down a fresh towel yesterday when he had tossed the old one into the basket. Shaking his head at his own thoughts once more he grabbed the towel off of the bathroom counter where he had left it and ran it through his hair to remove all of the excess water and to keep it from dripping down his face, shoulders, torso, and back. Once satisfied with that he moved on to drying off his face and neck, shoulders and then his arms, his stomach and then his back, his hips, and then down his thighs and onto his calves and feet – being careful as he did so not to tip over in the bathroom and end up breaking himself. Once he was satisfied that he was completely and utterly dried off he wrapped the towel around his waist – something which was silly considering he had walked into the bathroom stark naked and had in fact slept all night uncovered and in much the same position – and headed back into his bedroom; a swoosh of steam billowing out from the bathroom and into his bedroom as the door was opened – he had apparently had the shower hotter than he thought he had, if his red tinted skin was anything to judge by, as well as the steam now rising up and off of his flesh. Once in his bedroom Kayn moved over to his dresser where he had left his clothing and tossed the towel which was around his waist and good and properly wet from him drying off, back onto the chair it had been draped on earlier. He then grabbed his boxer shorts and stepped into them, his black pants coming next, and then finally he pulled his t-shirt that was also black up and over his head, succeeding as he did so in getting the collar a little wet from the remaining water in his black hair. Frowning at himself he contemplated changing shirts, but figured the same thing would just happen again – and it was only water, it would dry soon enough. Shaking his head once more he grabbed up his brush after stepping back into the bathroom and brushed his hair back, knowing it would dry and remain in generally that same direction for the rest of the day without him having to add any extra sort of product into it to get it that way – it was a blessing and maybe a little bit of a curse? Who knew, he was talking to himself again, and that just wasn’t healthy – maybe it had something to do with that Malkavia chick he had met a few days prior… no, best not to think about her and just move on with life. Yup, moving on was definitely what the doctor ordered.

Once he was completely satisfied he headed to the kitchen. He opened up the fridge and frowned at the contents, wondering what it was he actually wanted to make for breakfast. Or, maybe He should skip breakfast? No, he was pretty sure he had invited It over for breakfast – that was if It wasn't lounging around somewhere already – he had had one too many the night before and was lucky He could remember Him own name.

So, breakfast it was then! All manner of bacon, sausage, biscuits, eggs, cheese, and other ingredients were pulled from the fridge with gusto. Pots and pans followed and soon enough the food was started, filling the room with its wonderful smell. In Him opinion the smell of food was a better alarm clock then well... an alarm clock. Food was finished, and after taking down two plates He fixed them up, putting them both on the table followed by glasses filled with juice. Breakfast was served!

Figuring it was going to take a few minutes for the coffee to percolate He decided to start on his own plate of food: the hash browns were eaten first – his favorite breakfast food after all. He biscuit was cut open and an egg and sausage added before He closed it up making a sandwich which was then devoured next.

He glanced over to the coffee machine when he was done eat, noticing that the pot was now full. He reached up with his left hand and scratched at the area fake tattooed on his face. He stood then and wandered over, grabbing down two coffee mugs – big ones, not little tiny cups because they just didn't hold enough coffee in them to satisfy him. He also removed the creamer from the fridge and pulled out the sugar from the nearby cupboard along with spoons from the drawer. Yawning He added cream and sugar to his own coffee; a lot of both, and then added the coffee before giving it a good stir. Just as he was about to bring the cup to his lips however a sound went off next door that sounded like a door slamming followed by shouting.

Kayn flinched and rolled his head on his shoulders. “My tolerance doesn't exist in the morning... especially not this early.” The neighbors, different than those from this morning, were at it once more.

“BITCH I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! GET BACK HERE!”

“NO! GO FUCK YOURSELF!”

“I WILL KILL YOU!”

Okay, Kayn wasn't in the mood to listen to this. He really wasn't. He knew He needed to move but the apartment was cheap, and outside of the noisy neighbors that liked to drink next door it was a rather nice place to live. So, Kayn took a sip of Him coffee, put the cup down on the kitchen counter, and then walked over and out Him front door – snagging a knife out of the cutting block on the way. The neighbors apartment door was right outside of Him own; only about three feet down. So, He reached it in just a few strides, raised Him fist, and beat on the door loudly three times.

“WHO THE FUCK IS IT?!”

“Open the fucking door before I bust it down and shove it's splintered pieces up your asshole one at a fucking time with only your own blood as lubricant.”, Kayn bit out through gritted teeth. There was a quiet pause on the other side of the door in which Kayn could imagine Him neighbors looking at each other in likely a shell shocked fashion before footsteps could be heard on the floor coming nearer, followed by the door opening.

In the doorway stood a massive man whose knuckles were bruised and broken open: obviously he used them often and likely had done so in the past six or so hours with the way they were looking – or so the medic and all of the training He had gone through told Him. The man took in Kayn's appearance closely, looking at Him in a way that made Him skin crawl and gave Him the urge to bathe in bleach, but He showed no outward sign of it. Once he realized He was much smaller then him and at least half his weight he grinned.

As he finished speaking his hand closed the distance, clearly about to make contact with the smooth flesh on his face – aiming to touch the name tattooed beneath his left eye. Truly this man was about to make a fatal mistake... one that was likely about to cause him a great deal of pain... One did not simply touch Kayn and go about unscathed.

Bad Career move. he was not about to let this happen. The world would seem to slow down as his mind sprang into action and moved, forming out a duplicate of himself forged form pure chakra, stepping around Kayn and somehow disarming him of the knife with its right hand. Even as this happened, the left hand was already moving, lifting into the air to intercept the incoming strike by grabbing the wrist and slam the man's hand into the wall. The knife was then brough to bear, driven down into the slammed hand, esentialy nailing this man's hand to the fucking door frame.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

Normally, the screaming would have been music to his ears, but it was only serving to piss It off more. Almost as if tracing the length of this guy's arm, It backhanded the fucker with such power that he almost stumbled backward. Or, he would have, if he wasnt held up by a hand nailed to the door frame.

"It seems to me that you have a fucking problem keeping your hands to yourself. It seems to me that you like touching people, whether they like it or not. It seems to me.. THAT YOU LIKE GETTING PHSYICAL!" "As he spoke, It positioned himself, pinning the brute's free hand with her own against the other side of the door frame. Drawing back a foot, It launched it forward, kicking this guy straight in the testes. "LETS SEE IF YOU LIKE GETTING TOUCHED!"

Another kick was launched, followed by another, and another, and another. The screaming gave way to whimpers, then quickly reverted to silent screams as a dark red stain appeared on the man's pants. "DO YOU LIKE BIENG TOUCHED?! HUH?! DO YOU LIKE INTERUPTING MY BREAKFAST?! DO YOU LIKE HOW I HANDLE PEOPLE WHO MAKE NOISE WHILE I'M HUNGOVER?! DO YOU LIKE CHOCOLATE MILK?!" Each question was punctuated with another kick, until It was pretty sure this man this man would have problems walking properly for the rest of his life, screw having kids.

This mother fucker was going to slap her--- or not. Yeah, that was a definite or not. She felt the knife leave her hand, but it was by no means this giant brute of a man taking it – he wouldn't have been able to get it so easily out of her grip, plus it would seem as if he hadn't even noticed it – or perhaps he had and figured that since she looked so much smaller then him it was a non-issue. No, this was totally It disarming her who wasn't obviously about to stand by and watch this man even attempt to slap her – even though if Kayn was honest with himself she would have likely enjoyed the pain instead of it bothering her at all. But still, there were certain principals and morals to go by and letting some woman beater put their hands on her? That was a no no. Even if she would enjoy it in the end.

The best part about the whole situation was, of course, that even though it was a bit in the over-kill scenerio it was after all self defense. Kayn's blue gaze snapped to the female standing behind the brute a good ten feet back, the woman's hands brought up to her mouth in horror as she watched and listened to what was going on to the man she lived with. Having a civilian scared didn't bother Kayn, but the bruises on the innocent woman's face? Yeah, those did. So scratch that: this wasn't just self defense this was defense of an innocent civilian who looked so frail she looked like she couldn't even lift a sack of potatoes on her own.

“You. Fucking. Mother. Fucker.”, Kayn bit out each word as if it were its own sentence. Apparently something in her tone of voice caused the man – despite the massive amount of pain he was in (Kayn was surprised he was even still conscious considering what was happening to him) – to take pause and look at her and then follow Kayn's gaze to the shell shocked woman. The brute opened his mouth, obviously about to bark a commend or tell her off or whatever. However, before he could utter a word Kayn had removed the knife from his hand and the wall – something that jerked his attention back to her – and moved past It skillfully while grabbing the brute's uninjured hand. Before he could say 'bobs your uncle' she had his hand pinned to the other side of the door post and the knife going through it: nailing it there.

“Fucking hate pigs like you who feel the need to beat on women. Especially when they're five times smaller then you and can't fight back.” All of this was said over a fresh round of screams: she had purposely hit his hand in an area that would essentially – without the best medical care that only a shinobi or a rich member of the village would be lucky to get – render it useless for the rest of his life while keeping it in constant pain.

“Now, listen here fuck face. I'm going to go in my apartment and I'm going to finish my coffee before it gets cold. I don't care if you have to crawl on your face and drag yourself across your apartment with your teeth: you are to go in there, pack your shit and only your shit, and get the hell out. I do not care where you go, I do not care if you survive making it down the steps. You are to leave and not come back. If I see you around here? I will kill you. Slowly and painfully. If you attempt to harm this woman or any other woman again? I will torture you for so long that you'll beg me to kill you and death will not come.” Kayn turned, not caring if the man got himself free or if It just killed him right then and there – Kayn was serious that if he saw him again shit was going to go down and go down hard.

He crossed the few steps that separated him from his apartment, walked inside and over to the kitchen counter, and picked up his giant coffee cup. He sipped at the liquid inside and relaxed a bit: it was still nice and hot. Good, good. Fuck yea!




4404 | 8,487 TWC

8487/1480 x 5 = REA | SPD | END | STR | PER E-1 to D-3

1087/525 [750 -30%] = Ninja Art: Quick Step Trained

562/525 [750 -30%] = Shadowless Kick Trained

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