1 Illusions [Solo/Training] Sun Jun 09, 2013 1:13 am
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The water beneath his feet swayed silently as he lept from pillar to pillar, when each step landing gracefully on the coarse surface of the wood. Tatsumaru was relying purely on his memory to map the landscape, as his eyes were shut. He had been at this for five minutes now, dancing across the surface of the Naka river, each step landing on a series of pillars that stuck out of the water for this exact purpose. A Shinobi was required to be able to tell with ease where their next step would land. They must be able to keep a complete map of the environment they have surveyed in their heads and use it to position themselves without having to break visual contact with their opponents.
Deciding to turn the difficulty up a notch, Tatsumaru began leaping from pillar to pillar with increased speed, spinning mid air with each leap. If he could keep his focus and land on the poles while his field of reference was constantly changing, it would prove his senses were keen and sharp. Any old Shinobi can keep up with this exercise when they remain facing one direction, while it takes a true genius to be able to hold their footing perfectly while moving as they would in a hectic fight. Tatsumaru's left foot landed on a pole, while his right launched a sharp Muay Thai kick at thin air. The force of the swing caused him to spin on the spot, and at the apex of the fore, Tatsumaru kicked off, landing on another pole with his other foot. "Tatsumaru." A deep, cold voice rang across the water. It rang of gravel and wisdom, with a tiny dash of anger. "Hello Father." Tatsumaru replied slowly, continuing to spin and leap with his eyes shut. Whenever his father sought him out, it was either for an assassination or because something was wrong. Either way, Tatsumaru wasn't in a rush to find out. "Clean yourself up and present yourself in the main hall. You have five minutes." As his father spoke, Tatsumaru could hear the crunching of grass as he walked away. How... typical of him. Give an order and then leave. No emotion, no soul, just order.
Sliding the door to his house open, Tatsumaru began to undress quickly as he made his way through the house, stripping off his casual kimono off and tossing it aside before tearing off his singlet and boxers. Reaching his bedroom, Tatsumaru slid his closet open, pulling out the pieces of his traditional attire; his Flak Jacket, belt, long shirt, pants and combat boots, laying them out across the bed. Sliding the drawers in the corner open, he pulled out a singlet, a pair of dark woolen socks and a set of black boxers. Slapping the entire assemble together with haste, Tatsumaru took a moment to dash into the bathroom. A thick layer of stubble had set in across his face, more of a basic beard than a five o’clock shadow. Rubbing the palms of his hands together, Tatsumaru placed the index fingers from both hands at either side of the jaw line. As he dragged it over, the thick beard turned into smooth skin, a tiny layer of chakra tearing off the hairs. In a few moments, Tatsumaru's shabby appearance returned to his normal clean shaven appearance with well trimmed side burns. Beautiful. Splashing a quick dash of gel into his hair, Tatsumaru dealt with some of the more scruffy shambled dregs of his hair, making it look vaguely organized. Time to go see what his father wanted.
Slowly Sliding the door to the main hall open, the sight Tatsumaru walked into was nothing like what he expected. His father sat in his ceremonial garb, resting with his knees crossed on a silk pillow. Several meters across from Tatsumaru's father was an empty pillow, with the whole array surrounded by a circle of candles on tall black candle poles. "You're late. I said five minutes, not five minutes twenty seven seconds." Tatsumaru bit his lip, resisting the urge to make a snide remark as he approached. "Sorry father." Tatsumaru said with a polite tone of voice, pausing at the seat for a moment before slowly replicating his father's position on the free pillow. "So, what's with the overly dramatic setup?" Tatsumaru said with a smile, staring at his father. His eyes were shut, and he remained perfectly silent for a few painfully long moments. When he finally began to speak, his words carved through Tatsumaru's ears like gravel. The tone was not as it normally was, harsh but emotionless, this sounded more like the snarls of a beast. "You are an amateur Shinobi at best. Your Ninjutsu is solid, but your Taijutsu is mediocre, and every single attempt you have ever made at performing Genjutsu has been pathetic. You are an Uchiha. You must be better than you currently are. Every syllable he spoke, while calm and silent, had a strange property to them, as though the words he spoke were coming not from a man, but from a demon that was about to unleash it's fury upon someone. "Today, we will fix that." Although his words were spoken with the same soulless venom, there was something... terrifying in his last few syllables. For the first time in his life, Tatsumaru was actually afraid of his father. Still, he kept his gaze locked on his father's eyelids, which, after a few long moments of silence began to slide open...
Tatsumaru found himself staring straight into the Mangekyou Sharingan of his father. This was a sight he had never seen before, and it chilled him to his core. Three thick lines of black came from the border to the center of the tomoe, twisting counter clockwise as they approached. The dark array spun slowly counter clockwise in their sockets, the pupils locked squarely on Tatsumaru's eyes. Out of pure fear, Tatsumaru's sharingan activated on it's own, his meak two tomoes trying to must as much of a defense against the sight he saw as physically possible. "I am going to teach you Genjutsu today." Tatsumaru felt some measure of relief once his father said it was purely for training reasons. Still, he had no idea why he was staring into his father's Sharingan. Tatsumaru opened his mouth briefly, trying with great difficulty to form a coherent sentence, but before he could his father cut him off, speaking one word with guttural fury, his eyes flaring as he did so. "TSUKUYOMI!!" As soon as his father said the word, Tatsumaru's world went black, and all his sensation bled into nothingness. His mind was flooded was a powerful sensation of falling, like he had fallen through the fabric of reality itself...
Word Count: 1131/3000
Deciding to turn the difficulty up a notch, Tatsumaru began leaping from pillar to pillar with increased speed, spinning mid air with each leap. If he could keep his focus and land on the poles while his field of reference was constantly changing, it would prove his senses were keen and sharp. Any old Shinobi can keep up with this exercise when they remain facing one direction, while it takes a true genius to be able to hold their footing perfectly while moving as they would in a hectic fight. Tatsumaru's left foot landed on a pole, while his right launched a sharp Muay Thai kick at thin air. The force of the swing caused him to spin on the spot, and at the apex of the fore, Tatsumaru kicked off, landing on another pole with his other foot. "Tatsumaru." A deep, cold voice rang across the water. It rang of gravel and wisdom, with a tiny dash of anger. "Hello Father." Tatsumaru replied slowly, continuing to spin and leap with his eyes shut. Whenever his father sought him out, it was either for an assassination or because something was wrong. Either way, Tatsumaru wasn't in a rush to find out. "Clean yourself up and present yourself in the main hall. You have five minutes." As his father spoke, Tatsumaru could hear the crunching of grass as he walked away. How... typical of him. Give an order and then leave. No emotion, no soul, just order.
Sliding the door to his house open, Tatsumaru began to undress quickly as he made his way through the house, stripping off his casual kimono off and tossing it aside before tearing off his singlet and boxers. Reaching his bedroom, Tatsumaru slid his closet open, pulling out the pieces of his traditional attire; his Flak Jacket, belt, long shirt, pants and combat boots, laying them out across the bed. Sliding the drawers in the corner open, he pulled out a singlet, a pair of dark woolen socks and a set of black boxers. Slapping the entire assemble together with haste, Tatsumaru took a moment to dash into the bathroom. A thick layer of stubble had set in across his face, more of a basic beard than a five o’clock shadow. Rubbing the palms of his hands together, Tatsumaru placed the index fingers from both hands at either side of the jaw line. As he dragged it over, the thick beard turned into smooth skin, a tiny layer of chakra tearing off the hairs. In a few moments, Tatsumaru's shabby appearance returned to his normal clean shaven appearance with well trimmed side burns. Beautiful. Splashing a quick dash of gel into his hair, Tatsumaru dealt with some of the more scruffy shambled dregs of his hair, making it look vaguely organized. Time to go see what his father wanted.
Slowly Sliding the door to the main hall open, the sight Tatsumaru walked into was nothing like what he expected. His father sat in his ceremonial garb, resting with his knees crossed on a silk pillow. Several meters across from Tatsumaru's father was an empty pillow, with the whole array surrounded by a circle of candles on tall black candle poles. "You're late. I said five minutes, not five minutes twenty seven seconds." Tatsumaru bit his lip, resisting the urge to make a snide remark as he approached. "Sorry father." Tatsumaru said with a polite tone of voice, pausing at the seat for a moment before slowly replicating his father's position on the free pillow. "So, what's with the overly dramatic setup?" Tatsumaru said with a smile, staring at his father. His eyes were shut, and he remained perfectly silent for a few painfully long moments. When he finally began to speak, his words carved through Tatsumaru's ears like gravel. The tone was not as it normally was, harsh but emotionless, this sounded more like the snarls of a beast. "You are an amateur Shinobi at best. Your Ninjutsu is solid, but your Taijutsu is mediocre, and every single attempt you have ever made at performing Genjutsu has been pathetic. You are an Uchiha. You must be better than you currently are. Every syllable he spoke, while calm and silent, had a strange property to them, as though the words he spoke were coming not from a man, but from a demon that was about to unleash it's fury upon someone. "Today, we will fix that." Although his words were spoken with the same soulless venom, there was something... terrifying in his last few syllables. For the first time in his life, Tatsumaru was actually afraid of his father. Still, he kept his gaze locked on his father's eyelids, which, after a few long moments of silence began to slide open...
Tatsumaru found himself staring straight into the Mangekyou Sharingan of his father. This was a sight he had never seen before, and it chilled him to his core. Three thick lines of black came from the border to the center of the tomoe, twisting counter clockwise as they approached. The dark array spun slowly counter clockwise in their sockets, the pupils locked squarely on Tatsumaru's eyes. Out of pure fear, Tatsumaru's sharingan activated on it's own, his meak two tomoes trying to must as much of a defense against the sight he saw as physically possible. "I am going to teach you Genjutsu today." Tatsumaru felt some measure of relief once his father said it was purely for training reasons. Still, he had no idea why he was staring into his father's Sharingan. Tatsumaru opened his mouth briefly, trying with great difficulty to form a coherent sentence, but before he could his father cut him off, speaking one word with guttural fury, his eyes flaring as he did so. "TSUKUYOMI!!" As soon as his father said the word, Tatsumaru's world went black, and all his sensation bled into nothingness. His mind was flooded was a powerful sensation of falling, like he had fallen through the fabric of reality itself...
Word Count: 1131/3000