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1 Meditation? Of A Sort. [Invite only] on Thu May 31, 2018 11:08 pm

Kohaku Tsukino


He'd seen this done a million times by dozens of his family; a strange sort of meditation done via sitting so still that they became one with the highly conductive rocks formations that littered the the area. It was natural for them, his father one said it was something like "ya gotta charge y'er batteries, yanno? S'easy ta' do it li'e tha', sittin' aroun' an' suckin' up all tha' lightnin' 'n tha' air". He sort of got it, kinda; but it was never as easy for him. He couldn't handle lightning like his father or mother could;  which wasn't too say he couldn't use it,  because he sure could;  it just wasn't as natural. Not as powerful. But he could do things they couldn't at his age, so he wasn't too upset. There was no sense of judgement in his family, but he was curious as to why he wasn't as much of a lightning rod as the rest. "Maybe you're a late bloomer? " his sister would say. "It happens, don't worry too much about it."

He wasn't much convinced. Or he was, but he... wasn't? He didn't feel judged, nor did he feel like he was being treated as lesser;  but he still wasn't sure. A touch a pre-teen angst starting, perhaps? Or a weird quirk of the times. Things where strange around the temple; a queer tension along the elders toward the outsiders that roamed the temple grounds. Outsiders being anyone not family, not of their monks and bloodlines. Outright hostility toward the village ninja not branded by the clan's mark. Cousin of fire roaming about was nice, but they too seemed upset and so very tense. Licks of flame danced with the sparking thunder, signaling the underlying unsettled moods of the clan and their visiting cousins. Unsettled not because of their cousins;  the thunder dragons would forever welcome and love their fire salamander cousins; they where one family separated by nothing more than distance after all, so having the brilliant red and orange dancing among the purple and gold was beyond comfort, which only served to highlight how upset everyone was. He didn't know exactly why, but his father would only say "Tha' Outlanders're asking fer trouble, neh. Dun worry, I'll handle it."

He trusted his father. He couldn't shake the feeling in his gut;  that the world was about to flip and shatter. He didn't like it.

He needed to calm himself.

Mediation. He hoped it would help.

So there he sat, not far from the main entrance to the temple itself;  although you'd never know if you didn't already, given how it blended so well into the rock of the mountain; sitting in the shade of the formation, not much more than a meter or so off the ground, his brilliant purple and gold robes shimmering in the shadows yet blending perfectly into the rock and tumultuous sky above. If you didn't know he was there, he wasn't. Yet, he lived, he breathed, he attempted to meditate.

And he was failing. Mediation via stillness wasn't much his thing, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. Not yet, anyway. He wasn't quiet as stubborn as his father, but he was still pretty much the 'I'll do it if it kills me' type. For some things. Mediation wouldn't kill him; worst case he singed a few hairs if he got struck by a bolt of lightning. He was still young,  lightning did jack all overall to him, but he did still usually end up with a few burnt hairs or two if he took a hit from a natural storm bolt. The more the merrier, though;  lightning tickled and he rather enjoyed it. It was like a shot of energy to his body, a tickle of life and love and everything good in the world; the embrace of a mother, the proud strength of a father. Everything about his life that was good and innocent and just and wonderful, condensed into a split infinity of an instant of surging fury. Beautiful.

Man, he could go for a good strike. He might not be a walking lightning rod like his dad, but that didn't stop him from enjoying it all the same.

Oh distractions. Mediation of silence forever beyond the mind of the scholar and thinker.

WC: 752


All our knowledge begins with the senses
proceeds then to the understanding
and ends with reason.

There is nothing higher than reason.

Missions - D:  ||  C:  || B:  || A:  || S:  

Kohaku || Jutsu || Locker

2 Re: Meditation? Of A Sort. [Invite only] on Wed Jun 13, 2018 8:45 pm



Morning would come all to quickly, but it was a blessing; the male did not sleep much during the night, but then again he never did sleep much before beginning a mission.  Perhaps it was time for a shower? Getting up from his desk, Lucifer stripped down to his small clothes and fetched a clean pair of underwear from a nearby drawer. Stepping into the adjoining bathroom, he turned on the hot water. He prefered his showers burning, and the bathroom to feel like a sauna. As the water began to heat, and the bathroom began to steam, he could not help but think over what he had to do today -- he was to report to the administration building and get his paperwork over with so that he could start taking missions and begin his real mission.

After stripping off the last of his clothes and ducking under the water, the male could not help but groan as the dirt, grime and the anxiety was scalded off his body. When he was satisfied that he was finally clean, Lucifer stepped out from under the water and grabbed a towel hanging nearby. As he dried himself off, he could not help but admire his body. For a male in his late teens, he had the physique of a man in his late twenties. According to his doctor, his youthfulness was due to the power of his yang nature chakra, which apparently kept his body in top physical condition. He was not going to complain; just another wonderful reason to be him.

Pulling open drawers to find himself some clothing to wear. From within the fold the clothing the male would produce a scroll, which upon opening, would release a rather large hooded mantle into the room. Grabbing up the heavy cloak, Lucifer would slip it on over clothing he wore, and look at himself in the mirror once more. When he was satisfied with his clothes, he grabbed a brush and pulled it through his hair, thanking whatever deity that watched over him that he was blessed with easy to manage hair. When he was done, Lucifer snatched up his identification papers, a kunai and three shuriken to deposit into clothes in various places, then headed out the door.

It would not take him long to reach the mission board; perks of having the organization pick out his housing. They were a huge fan of hiding in plain sight, something Lucifer could appreciate. This could end up being profitable for him, making it very easy for him siblings to pick up missions on the fly. Stepping into the building through the door, he would glance around. As expected at nearly 6 in the morning, the place was empty, save for the overnight secretary who was slumped at her desk, softly snoring. Chuckling quietly, the male made way over to the mission board, taking a quick look to see what was there to be completed. He quickly saw the latest missions were occupied by a wide range of people, something about a scouting and delivery mission that seemed like it would take them several days to complete. Nothing seemed to be too stressful, but perhaps these were for the lower ranked ninjas?

Seemed legit enough. Pulling the paperwork he brought with him from his pockets, he took it over to the desk and rang the bell. The secretary jumped up with a gasp, knocking her stationery to the floor.

Lucifer offered her a polite smile as he waited for the female to compose her self. Pulling out his identification papers, he slid them across the desk to her.  "Iki, Lucifer, I.D. number zero nine two eight eight nine. I'm reporting for duty, as instructed."

The secretary adjusted her glasses, peering down at the paperwork. "Oh, okay. You were not expected to report in until 10 am.  One moment however, there is a bit of paperwork involved with this. Can you wait a second, and I will begin putting your info into the system."

"Yes ma'am. I got nothing but time." The child grinned at her as she walked away, nodding slowly. It was true -- he did have nothing but time. With that breakfast in his belly, he was feeling fine; like he could go for hours.  A moment later, the secretary reappeared, holding a form and offering him a pen. "Sign here, please."

Lucifer took the pen and scanned over the paper before signing the form, and slid it back to the female who placed a scroll onto the desk and slid it over to Lucifer. "And here as well, please." Another scribble, and the scroll was handed back. As the secretary took the scroll away, she looked about and a frown crossed her face.  "Oh darn." With a sigh, her attention was returned to Lucifer, an apologetic expression crossing her face. "As I said before, you were not due to report in until 10 am, and it seems that I am missing some of your paperwork. Unfortunately, It has to be drafted by hand, and the person who does it is not here yet. Could you come back at 10, and we can finish your process then?"

An eyebrow was raised on the young male, but he nodded. There was nothing he could do, so he would have to oblige for the moment. "Sure. I can come back then."


To say his morning was uneventful would be to say the least. His morning was spent scurrying around the village, attempting to get his small apartment set up with the various necessities; power, water, and mail. Oddly enough, when he arrived, there was already a letter waiting for him at the courier office. When he first picked it up, the male did not think anything of it, beyond tucking it away into his pockets. But now, as he walked through a place unknown to him, he would produce the letter, and open it to read.

Dear Lucifer,

Lucifer, you are to come home at once. Your mother is worried about you and your well being. I myself admit to being worried as well, but a letter is not the proper place to get into such things. Please, return home as soon as possible. Given the current state of the world, we would rather have you closer to home than out and about.


Your Father.

With a small sigh, the male folded the letter that he held, and tucked it into his clothing. It would seem that his father did not know of his recent return to Kumogakure no Sato, and the young man would like it keep it that way. He had no intention of returning home just yet, and if his father knew of him being there, the male would move heaven and earth to see his boy come home.

Perhaps that was why he was here, in this place? The one place his father would never venture, at least, not without calling ahead; the Thunder Grounds of Kumogakure no Sato. It was the home to one of the oldest clans in Kumogakure, one that was rumored to have been present in these lands long since before the village was founded. It was also home to someone who seemed to despise his father, a feat which the young male found insane; his father was a natural peacekeeper, a skilled negotiator and a shrewd intellect. How could he possibly have someone who hated him?

But that was not any of Lucifer’s business. He did not care too much, and he had no fear of being found in this particular area of Kumogakure no Sato. If anything, he could simply state that he had gotten lost while exploring the landscape, and was trying to find his way back to the ‘public’ spaces.

Would someone even believe that? Possibly? He was dressed in a fashion far removed from that of this region; an Indian chunnari around his shoulders and a small, short-sleeved, black, midriff-baring choli, which is where he keeps a tanto. He also sports an Indian leg dress, which stops at his ankles, but does not wear shoes. He has gold bangle bracelets that extend from his elbows to his wrists and a gold bangle necklace with a ruby in the center that is inspired by Rajasthani folk dancers.

Perhaps they could believe I am from Sunagakure no Sato?

Maybe, but he possessed no identifications to collaborate the story. Maybe he would get lucky, and no one would ask. Maybe he would get lucky, and he would not run into anyone --

His luck would pull a turn of sorts; up head, he could see someone in the distance. At this distance, the persona appeared to be of small stature; perhaps a child? They appeared to be seated, with their eyes closed -- perhaps asleep? If so, he could simply creep past them, and continue on his merry way.



The Devil is real, Guest.

He's not a little man with horns and a tail

He can be beautiful

Because he's a fallen angel

And he used to be God's favorite.


||The Devil | The Clan | Maifestations | Heaven's Armory | Tracker | Battle | Personal||

3 Re: Meditation? Of A Sort. [Invite only] on Thu Jun 14, 2018 8:19 pm

Kohaku Tsukino


It was always the things you wanted that never happened when you wanted them. He wanted to shut his brain off and zone out into a different state of being. For a split instant he could almost understand why people would use psychedelic substances to escape reality; however he was not even going to violate himself that way. His people didn't need drugs, they had dragons which they could commune with and push into new realms of understanding. Still, this was frustrating. He was firmly planted on this plane of mind, and he was rapidly hating it. Toss in the sky's rapid refusal to open up silver hell fire on him and he was actually becoming upset. Sort of. Not that he'd planned on getting struck, but it would have been nice. Something to distract from him his failure to shift his brain. Urgh.

Wait. What felt… wrong? Fire, but this wasn't a cousin. This was different. Unclean? Not really, though; all Tsukino saw fire and lightning not of their own as unclean, but not so much in the context the word inferred within the common tongues. In their language, the Sage Tongue, unclean had multiple words, with a multitude of meanings, each different from it's fellows and very few bad. This was a meaning of different, of unfamiliar. Still not quite right given a translation, but he doubted anyone around was psychic or whatever. He wasn't sure why he was justifying things to himself. Maybe he was just that unbalanced at the moment. Weird. Oh well. It seemed to him that this outlander was either lost, or passing through. Likely both. Very likely both. Few outlanders knew the paths of safety through the grounds; even their cousins stuck to the safe paths, hell young Tsukino did as well. Lightning wasn't the issue, the storm itself was. Unsafe areas would turn to maelstrom in an instant; drowning in the mountain valley was a real probability. Or suffocating. Those winds, by the dragons those winds. He'd strayed once as a babe. Never again.

Fear wasn't something he had much of. This was more a healthy respect. With a healthy sprinkling of fear. No point in pretending, even his father was wary of those spaces. If Raijin gave space, he would give a wide berth. He wasn't stupid, nor suicidal; he'd stay to the safe zones.

Maybe he should stop the outlander from hurting himself.

Probably a good idea.

Not that he much cared about outlanders. He didn't hate them as the fire cousins did, but he wasn't fully ambivalent toward them as the dragons where. A bit of good will went a long way, he believed. Still, that involved work toward aiding an outsider. Hnn.

Something about the chakra this outlander projected though… It seemed, familiar, but not. Not to him. A sort or queer kind of familiar that came from a memory not his own. Genetic memories were normal for dragons, they were instinct passed from the dragons to the lightning children. Huh. He tasted a bitter sort of memory. Bittersweet. Bittersweet in a way he couldn't describe. Something deep and personal. A flash of his father and someone else. Not enough information for him to understand the meaning of the memory, but enough to intrigue him.

A crack of green among the purple, gold, and scorched earth; unseeable unless someone was looking for it or had remarkable eyesight. He didn't smell a eyeball user, but then again he hadn't met many of them, so he wasn't as good as his father at sniffing them out. He didn't figure this person could see he was watching, not at that distance, but that didn't stop him from readying mentally. Not for a fight mind you, merely for interaction with an outlander. They spoke differently, the accent and slang was strange to his ears, and he was merely passable in their tongue. His native words were that of dragons and their sages, not of the humans outside. He wasn't entirely on his father's level of ‘what?’, but he could be interesting to attempt to understand nonetheless. He waited patiently, he was comfortable on a physical level after all, so moving wasn't a priority even with his high levels of boredom and general feelings of ‘uuugh’ over his lack of meditative ability; the outlander moved closer and he was almost to the point of convincing himself to just let the other male pass.


And this was a big one.

Ozone and power. The air was suddenly filled with it. His blood sang for joy, but his mind panicked. A juxtaposition kind of panic, because while he was very much safe and finally getting what he wanted, it meant this as-of-right-now-innocent outlander was about to die.



Well, that made the decision for him. He couldn't justify letting someone die without a solid reason. Not even an outlander. No matter how his family felt, they didn't wish the outlanders to die; not entirely, or even mostly. Most outlanders were good enough people; those of good heart and unblemished soul were allowed life. Without reason to believe otherwise, he would assume this outlander was of the good, and allow him life.

If the outlander recognized the danger he was in, Kohaku could never be sure. He knew, all too well, that he could redirect the energy of the heavens into the waiting void of the crystal rock pillars around them. A flash, not of lightning, but of movement. Kohaku unfolding himself from the rock face and flying across the stoney ground until he was close enough to throw the weighted arrowhead of his rope dart so that it was wrapped around the nearest rock pillar while still allowing him to place a hand on the outlander’s shoulder and raise the other into the air to attract the bolt to himself. The bolt would strike his upheld hand, the energy traveling along his chakra network easily and into the rope of his dart, bleeding the fury into the waiting rocks while keeping a fair bit for himself.

Oh yeah, that felt good. Damn good. Shit, if he was a bit older, he'd probably understand why so many of his teenaged cousins spent all day hanging out courting lightning strikes. It was supposed to be for training, but he got the feeling there was more going on than just that. Fun times. Anyway. Yeah, saving the outlander. Right. Yeah.

“So. Outlander. You're waaaaay out of the safe zones, yeah. You lost, then, eh?”

WC 1088.

1840 total.


All our knowledge begins with the senses
proceeds then to the understanding
and ends with reason.

There is nothing higher than reason.

Missions - D:  ||  C:  || B:  || A:  || S:  

Kohaku || Jutsu || Locker

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