1 The fated meeting with an old "friend" [private/Invite Only/NK] Fri Jun 16, 2017 8:23 pm
Orochi Risu
S-rank
The forest was silent when a man walked through the trees, breathing heavily while every moment looking behind him, checking his surroundings with extreme care, as if something or someone was following him or at least the man in question did have the idea that something or someone was.
The night was pitchblack, with a new moon in the sky, hidden from humanity's eyes behind its own shadow, the stars from far away, the only light in a dark and dreary night's sky. There were no shadows in the forest, there was only darkness as far as the eyes could see, as if stumbling through a void, with no beacon to guide people.
The man suddenly stopped, leaning against a tree, carefully turning his head around a few times, before finally relaxing for probably the first time during that entire night. Yet the man was no man at all, but a woman wearing the skin of a corpse, the remains of a victim of probably the worst way for a man to die.
Silently, the person who looked like a man placed a satchel on the ground and started to undress himself, until eventually there was only a naked person standing in the darkness. The sound of skin tearing and ripping apart resonated through the darkness of the forest, revealing a woman with fair alabaster skin and raven black hair where earlier a man seemed to be standing.
Slowly the woman opened the satchel that had been placed on the ground and started dressing herself, pulling on each and every piece of clothing with a soft satisfied moan, as if feeling the silk, spandex and leather was a heavenly feeling in and of itself. For most that would've been hilarious, but to her: the former Anbu captain and former head of the Ouroboros clan, it was just as such, a heavenly feeling after having worn nothing more than coarse and rough cotton and cloth for a while.
Alas, just as she managed to complete her attire, by placing a mask in front of her face, a sting of pain entered her, her hand rising quickly towards her face, pressing against her empty eyesocket behind the mask. It was a reminder of her failure and as long as she was unable to mold her chakra properly, she'd have to live with that damn accursed hole, that wound that proved that she had yet to stand atop the pecking order of the shinobi world. It was a cruel reminder to the illussion which the people called reality. "Hyuga...Tsuyo...one day,
I will come for you and when that day comes... you will know what it truly means, to suffer the equivalent of a thousand deaths."
Letting out a sigh, the woman known as Lamya or Orochi Risu, would stagger a bit and try to walk as calmly as ashe could in the opposite direction of the village, hoping she'd at least reach the border with the land of wind before it was morning.
510
The night was pitchblack, with a new moon in the sky, hidden from humanity's eyes behind its own shadow, the stars from far away, the only light in a dark and dreary night's sky. There were no shadows in the forest, there was only darkness as far as the eyes could see, as if stumbling through a void, with no beacon to guide people.
The man suddenly stopped, leaning against a tree, carefully turning his head around a few times, before finally relaxing for probably the first time during that entire night. Yet the man was no man at all, but a woman wearing the skin of a corpse, the remains of a victim of probably the worst way for a man to die.
Silently, the person who looked like a man placed a satchel on the ground and started to undress himself, until eventually there was only a naked person standing in the darkness. The sound of skin tearing and ripping apart resonated through the darkness of the forest, revealing a woman with fair alabaster skin and raven black hair where earlier a man seemed to be standing.
Slowly the woman opened the satchel that had been placed on the ground and started dressing herself, pulling on each and every piece of clothing with a soft satisfied moan, as if feeling the silk, spandex and leather was a heavenly feeling in and of itself. For most that would've been hilarious, but to her: the former Anbu captain and former head of the Ouroboros clan, it was just as such, a heavenly feeling after having worn nothing more than coarse and rough cotton and cloth for a while.
Alas, just as she managed to complete her attire, by placing a mask in front of her face, a sting of pain entered her, her hand rising quickly towards her face, pressing against her empty eyesocket behind the mask. It was a reminder of her failure and as long as she was unable to mold her chakra properly, she'd have to live with that damn accursed hole, that wound that proved that she had yet to stand atop the pecking order of the shinobi world. It was a cruel reminder to the illussion which the people called reality. "Hyuga...Tsuyo...one day,
I will come for you and when that day comes... you will know what it truly means, to suffer the equivalent of a thousand deaths."
Letting out a sigh, the woman known as Lamya or Orochi Risu, would stagger a bit and try to walk as calmly as ashe could in the opposite direction of the village, hoping she'd at least reach the border with the land of wind before it was morning.
510