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1Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Gold and Iron (ting) on Thu Nov 08, 2018 4:39 am

Yōsei

Yōsei

S-rank
Mission:
Mission name: Red Turnt Yellow.
Mission rank: S.
Objective: Locate and Liberate Chūnin Hopeful.
Location: Hi no Kuni Border.
Reward: 2000 Ryo + 5EP
Mission Description: There are a number of entrants missing from their bracket matches, with no discernible pattern in village or other behavior to explain the multiple dropouts. Considering the lack of any correspondence, foul play is suspected.
Mission Details: Cults present in the Land of Fire have taken to indoctrinating the Genin who have traveled to the exams, and are doing so by force. Deep in the wilderness of Hi no Kuni, an S-ranked cult leader in golden robes commands a mixture of A and B-ranked non-ninja worshippers who have forcibly kidnapped entrants. All are equipped with A and S-ranked weapons and the Leader is a Raiu Clan member with all library techniques for his Suiton and Raiton elements, as well as Ninjutsu. This mission can be taken to rescue a PC contestant in the exams as if it were an opposed mission, counting as if both players had completed this mission twice.

Gold and Iron (ting) Bn0jRDO

As nostalgia swept beneath the current of Konoha's fanfare, the entourage of Iron Country veterans surrounding the midnight lodge, humming with boisterous laughter and songs of ancient tidings, stood tirelessly at their posts, faces obscured by baroque masks depicting beasts of fortune. Horses lingering at the edge of the forest, perking ears up as trees snapped underfoot, munched quietly at bales of straw, turning their eyes toward silhouettes piercing the dark into the amber glow shining from windows at the township's precipice. Twin messengers draped in burgundy armor, markings of the Land of Iron hung across banners sewn to their regalia, marched toward the house, grim faces hung low beneath shadowy news. Greeted by solemn nods and foreign codes, the pair found purchase in the rented manor, following the dimly lit halls and stairs until the fist of them slid away the door of wax paper, revealing the congregation within.

Sat beneath a wall-to-wall painting depicting Fire Country's endless forests, and the mountains framing them, a group of samurai remained cross-legged, their conversation halting to meet the scouts. Returning so long after the day's withdrawal meant doubtless bad news awaited, and after the severe eyes met with their commanders, each of the room's attention drew inevitably toward the man who sat alone at the head of the table. Rivers of black hair trailed down the Shogun's shoulders, painting strokes of dark ink across the blue and white robes, layers of silk upon one another which marked him not only as a man of means but the leader of this samurai troupe. Silence lingered just a moment, long enough for the leftmost messenger to catch his Lord's eyes and proceed.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Lord Xiahou, but the men in gold you seek, we believe that we have found them,"

Without a word, the Shogun rose his hand to gesture all but his scouts away, the chief guardians of Xiahou's treaty with relaxation gave their parting remarks, tone shifting away from the sound of vacation to the business they had come here for. From the distant lands of Steel Country, the delegates represented something distinctly separate in the Land of Fire; with no competitors so to speak, Lord Xiahou represented the interests of his nation without bias, overseeing the shinobi and their blood sports while negotiating the future between their two worlds. Standing slowly and sweeping the ebon locks behind him, the Shogun made his way forward, beckoning the scouts to continue while approaching ornamental displays of red and gold armor fitted on statues to his right. As they spoke, he would dress, obscuring the finery of his robes with crafted steel, the elegant armor nearing that of ceremonial.

"Several miles into the forest, near the Fire Country border, we saw six men carrying urns, dressed in gold, toward a site surrounded in red lanterns. As you requested, we returned immediately and marked our path back for you to follow. Lord Xiahou, I know what you requested but, are you sure you wish to go alone?"

"Send word to Zhi, she will instruct you on how to proceed. We Lords of Iron are not without battle scars of our own, and I will undertake this errand in solitude, as a show of faith to our most gracious of hosts."

"As you wish."

Drifting from treetops in the autumn midnight, leaves the color of Hi no Kuni's namesake flirted with the crimson hue of Xiahou's armor as he made headway into the treeline. Gold buckles in the shape of horse heads and the iconography of his Shogunate caught the faint pillars of silver moonlight, sparse as they were through the canopy of neverending foliage which even in the fall cast a sheet of black across the forest floor. The clapping of galloping hooves resounded in the ghostly evening, auburn mane of the Shogun's chosen steed flailing with the momentum of his ride as the blades on his hip clattered in tune with the horse's gait. Atop the Lord's crown of jet black hair, which was now mirroring his companion's ruff, flowing behind them as they sped through the trees, a totemic helmet fit with horns raised high like fingers grasping at the moon, split into jagged  patterns reminiscent of a stag, and the single golden seal of his house held in the center of its forehead. Hidden beneath the facade of Shogun lord, a familiar pair of eyes disguised themselves, drinking in the love of a land that he called home, and set upon the targets who slumbered deep in the heart of his beloved Konoha, polluting its children, and stealing its heart.

Whatever profane acts awaited him this night, Xiahou would not allow himself to show mercy to those who would desecrate his secret homeland, that much, the Samurai knew. Fast approaching, he could see the first of his scouts' ominous warnings, red lanterns swaying in the wind, welcoming the Shogun to a den of Godless worship.


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十六代目

J U T S U | | I T E M S

2Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Re: Gold and Iron (ting) on Thu Nov 08, 2018 1:20 pm

Ting

Ting



The aged tradition of setting the youngest warriors of the shinobi ranks against one another in a sport viewed by people all around the nation, the Chunin Exams were only a single sleepless night away. The young woman, wearing not more than a silky nightgown and her undergarments would lay in her bed staring up at the ceiling in search of answers to the question of sleep that the speckled paintjob above simply could not provide. It was cool in her room, just the way she liked it. Everything was at peace. Not even the excitable tourists that had come in droves to the Hidden Leaf could disturb her within the safety of her apartment within the Kimura Compound. The window in her room offered brief glances out onto the large fenced in training area she had spent a ridiculous amount of time utilizing. All of the memories of such activities would stoke her mind, adding even more fuel to the flame that denied her the comfort of a good night’s sleep.

It was common for her to struggle with sleep on the night before a big event. Even holidays had this effect on Ting, the girl often becoming too full of excitement about whatever sort of events and merriment she had set into motion for the following day. This was quite a bit different, as any fool would see. She could not sleep because just beyond that horizon, when that sun chose to rise over the horizon, she would be faced with demonstrating every skill she had accumulated over the last few months in front of the largest audience she would likely ever be exposed to. She was not confident in herself at this time. Fear and self consciousness had overtaken her completely. The only escape from that hell was sleep and it had forsaken her.

Lost in her own head of worry, Ting would catch a glimpse of something peculiar outside within the fenced training area of her compound. Several robed figures bearing laterns stood huddled in the center of that familiar area. As Ting watched, rising from her bed to inspect the scene a little more closely, she would meet a terrible shock. All of the figures would suddenly turn toward her, staring into her room from where they stood, faces obscured with white masks of all variety of animals represented. The petrified genin would stumble backwards drawing the curtains closed only to make her way toward the front of her apartment. As she rounded the corner in order to approach the exit, her heart would drop into her stomach. Swaying lightly in the breeze, her door was wide open, the deadbolt shoved through the door frame. She would turn away quickly to run for the kitchen but would find herself in absolute horror as she was met with the satin fabric of a robe, adorning a massive individual wearing a mask representing an Ox.

As she struck at him in terror, she would try to turn back to make her way in the opposite direction but her leg was met with a sharp pain, a bo-staff landing a signicant blow. From what the girl knew of medicine, her leg was now fractured and it was only a matter of time before—the tight grip of the gargantuan behind her wrapped around her throat, strangling the air from her quickly. She knew nothing else of what to do but to scream, now surrounded by terrifying masks. She used the last of her breath to summon forth Kiai, a loud piercing shout she had learned in an effort to vary her exam strategies. The call would echo through the night as she lost consciousness, the cultists leaving her home hurriedly and rushing into the woods opposite the compounds training grounds.




Upon waking, Ting would feel the throbbing in her leg which was now bandaged up as of being cared for. It hurt far less than before, almost as if it had been reset somehow. Attentions demanded elsewhere, she quickly realized he was inside of a cage made of strange glowing matter. It was a vibrant blue color and looked almost like fluorescent light bulbs. She would reach for it, but as her hand drew near she could feel intense heat radiating from it. As a test, she would tear a piece of her gown and drop it over one of the bars. Within an instant the cloth was incinerated. She wouldn’t be breaking her way out of this prison.

Her mind raced, frantically wondering what she would do or whether she had any chance at survival. At the center of the little clearing she was trapped within, a man adorned in golden robes seemed to be ordering the red robed cultists to and fro, attending to what seemed to be several other prisoners contained in the same deadly prisons of glowing matter. Going down the line, the golden-robed man would form handseals, bringing down one cage at a time in order to allow his minions to subdue the occupant and force feed them this vile looking black substance from a chalice. There was much screaming but it would quickly be silenced by threat of a beating with that staff.

Ting could not bear to see her people tortured this way. She was a warrior of Konoha, not some helpless peasant. She mustered her strength and focused chakra into her foot, slamming it onto the dirt. The Sunder Spire technique would send a high pressure torrent of futon through the ground to blow a gagged formation of earth upwards in its desired location, sending an adversary flying backwards several meters while giving them a few minor cuts and bruises. She would do this while the man in gold seemed focused elsewhere, and the spire would meet with success, sending him spiraling out of his seat and causing each of the ranton prisons to fail.

Go now, brothers and sisters of Konoha! As quickly as you can!” Ting would intercept a cultist trying to grab up an escaped prisoner, doing almost no harm to him but shocking him in order for at least two of the genin to get away. Not but a few seconds later, herself and two others were pinned back down and beaten severely before being caged back up like animals.

This was the best she could do.




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3Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Re: Gold and Iron (ting) on Thu Nov 08, 2018 6:04 pm

Yōsei

Yōsei

S-rank
In sequence, the strung together trail of maroon lanterns gave Xiahou and his steed guidance through the pillars of black oak rising into the arms of gathering clouds which descended through the canopy. Shafts of rolling fog heralded the Shogun's path toward the distant bonfires roaring through the darkness, silver, and gold which twisted together, luminescent display of clumsy partnership brought about by the camp of Hastur's secret church. Narrowing his eyes, Xiahou could spy, even now, the sparks climbing from their firepits, and the shape of chakra rendered prisons which surrounded them. Already, the man's hand clasped at the hilt of Seisakata, withdrawing several inches of its growling blade, like hounds bearing fangs which longed to let loose and cry for war. Since his arrival to the Hidden Leaf, Xiahou had wished to dip into remembrance and once again take up the mantle of his life's work, ensuring Konoha's survival, and slaying any who threatened the village's way of life.

Infrequent lanterns became a slew of ritual markings, the stark red paper with fire flowing within, in time, decorated themselves with golden filigree, patterns of profane worship in the shape of triangles and perfect circles. The elegance of Samsara's representation was not lost on the Shogun, who let loose a guttural scoff at the audacity of these men, those who had perverted the philosophy of death to their own ends, and though he could not be sure of their true intentions, the Raikage's influence over the people of Fire Country would be answered with reproach. Seconds crawled, drawing out long lines across the wheel of creation until they were pulled taut, unable to be strummed without splintering. Konoha's sacred Oath revealed itself in Xiahou's grip, concealed by the darkness and fog, black edge bursting through the world to flourish in its master's fingers. At the center of everything, the Shogun saw a world revolving on the axis of encroaching war, one that he would not allow to consume his homeland and burn away the truth he had found.

What peace remained in the glade burst into a spectacle as horse and Samurai made their way through newfound walls of grey mist, not thick enough to obscure the oncoming silhouette which drew attention from guardians of Jashin's missive. Beyond the fire's reach, Ting's assault would punctuate Xiahou's reveal, horse crying out and rearing high on its hind legs as Seisakata bore into the leftmost prison of Ranton chakra, making short work of the immature technique with the virtue of its tenacity. It would be the young woman who would doubtless lay the first pair of eyes upon him, the Samurai's crimson armor and pitch black blade gliding effortlessly through her enclosure as the camp's decorum collapsed spectacularly. Drifting into strands of iridescent light, the cage surrounding Ting would give away, ribbons of chakra flickering and writhing as concentration broke. In the middle, clamoring flames crashed over one another, waves mimicking tumultuous oceans caught in storms rarely seen from land, and like lightning accompanying them, the Shogun's voice rang out, commanding the clearing to silence and eliciting the attention of all who stood before him.

"Look upon me, servants of death! Xiahou Qian, Commander of the Fifth Shogunate, Lord of Iron! You have stolen this land's children, and it will continue! By my hand, you will be undone!"

Barking his message to the gathering throngs of adversaries, the Shogun, dismounting and slapping the side of his steed, sending it to lie in wait beyond the ridge of trees, readied his blade, two hands clasping at the hilt as the men surrounding him drew forth their own instruments. Orchestras thrummed to life, splendid array following in the Shogun's wake as he wasted no time, darting toward the figures in red and gold to thrust an opening gambit in the form of deft slices through a pair who sought to impede him. Sparks of the first flurry illuminated them briefly, glimpses of fate swung between the harried cries of battle, growling and grunting as the Samurai barreled forth with a set of strikes, precise, shifting his body low and rising to his left, seeking the opposing hip of his first target who maneuvered their weapon with enough grace to block but see it ripped in twain by the surprising heft beneath the blade's upheaval. Steel met flesh and momentum found its victory, the rising tornado of Xiahou's stroke carried him through the mark to strike from behind at the leftmost combatant, who, seeing his fellow rent from the hip lept away to group with his cohorts, who hurried into formation behind the leader dressed in gold.

Seisakata dripping blood, Xiahou must have looked more beast than man in the swirling fog, lit by the amber flames, as he charged toward the congregation. Seeking to commune with their leader, the Oath came first, hands guiding its path through the frigid air before the feint revealed itself, Xiahou pivoting on his foremost right leg and darting as summoned Ranton chakra flew from the staff clutched by his primary target. Strands of light danced in all directions, cutting abstract wounds of glowing chakra through the night and mist, and Seisakata met those which followed with ease, the heat radiating in the crystal composition of Konoha's Oath, causing it to flash blue as daybreak's sky. Konoha's children would be free, Xiahou would have nothing less.

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十六代目

J U T S U | | I T E M S

4Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Re: Gold and Iron (ting) on Fri Nov 09, 2018 12:15 pm

Ting

Ting



The beating endured by Ting was not as ferocious or incapacitating as it could have been, and that in of itself brought some ideas to her mind about the possible reasons behind these kidnappings. The intention clearly was not to take contestants out of the exams and make them unable to compete, as they continued to make efforts to salvage the physicality of their prisoners. She also pondered momentarily on the tar-like substance in the chalice the cultists had been trying to have the captives drink.

Interrupting the deep train of thought, Ting would look up from the ground to the sight of a dark haired man wielding a sleek blade. The man had a visage and choice of clothing as if from a place far removed from any of the shinobi villages. Only as his blade moved through the bars of her cage effortlessly, breaking down the chakra-based structure as if it were nothing, did Ting realize the man was an ally. She climbed to her feel with haste and channeled forth her Wound Termination Technique. It would hopefully allow her to act s a distraction without dying after just a simple mistake. She was not sure what the best option was, watching the individual who freed her tear through members of the cult as if they were composed of butter. The man bearing the golden robes in the center of the camp had scarcely even stirred at the commotion, pulling down his hood and looking in the direction of both Xiahou and the blue haired genin who still stood behind him. A true terror, the golden robes man bore a white mask shaped to a large grin with hollow eyes. It was an unsettling mask, made more unsettling by the way he stood up slowly and seemed to dart to a position directly behind Ting in a fraction of seconds far too quickly for her eyes to follow.

He raised an ornate looking katana to her throat and began to backpedal carefully, saying nothing at all no matter what he was asked. As Ting felt the resonating power within her captor grow, she knew he was preparing to backpedal with a large amount of force. If he succeeded, she didn’t know enough about Xiahou to determine if he would be capable of following up with his speed. Seeking not to be caged and abused for the rest of her days, Ting made a dangerous decision. Timing her action with the bend in the smiling man’s knees, the Konoha genin would stack her Agezuki strike on top of the technique she referred to as Crackle, slamming her arm downward toward his left knee. Despite his prowess and skill as a ninja, while keeping her as a hostage and preparing an escape, he had left his guard down.

The charged strike did more than assist the situation, breaking the man’s knee through fully, causing him to stop and stand still. He looked around, figuring up what his options were once more before Xiahou would be able to spot his wrist tensing, a clear giveaway that he was preparing to execute Ting. Feeling the tension and that seemingly stop motion flow of time as she felt the cold steel move only a millimeter at a second, the young girl believed her life to be over right then and there.




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5Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Re: Gold and Iron (ting) on Fri Nov 09, 2018 5:41 pm

Yōsei

Yōsei

S-rank
Carving a trail toward his target, Xiahou had become that familiar storm, lightning crack in the darkness with Seisakata's glowing edge heralding each arrival. Hair dyed black, chakra running through the Shogun's veins in alien configuration, the warrior who sought to free these prisoners gave no quarter to Hastur's dogs, who he had slain by the dozens in Suna's scorching deserts, his message to the Raikage unambiguous and proud, such audacity displayed with determination on Xiahou's face. Each vehement stroke drew the Samurai closer to his mark, until regrouping messengers of Jashin's profane wisdom rallied to impede him, mustering the most robust blades collected from village scouts, clashing in violent cracks with Seisakata as Xiahou danced to his left, feet planting and whirling the warrior around before a leap forward, rolling low on the forest's floor to meet the waiting guardian with considerable force, knocking twin blades from his hands and causing him to duck away, replaced by another. From above the Shogun's right shoulder, a staff descended and impacted on his armor, rivets clanging loudly as Xiahou rode the wave of force, allowing himself to be pushed away by the onslaught and jettisoned several feet away.

Keen eyes observed the battle, whipping side to side and catching the shape of his targeted gold phantasm, moving as a gossamer ghost through the trees at speeds surprising the samurai. One eye on his missive, and one on the immediate threat, Xiahou came toward the most pressing of his opponents, rolling Seisakata into his off-hand while the left looped a series of kunai through its fingers, unleashing them in a wild array of black steel toward the navy-haired genin he had freed. Ting would find herself at the center of projectiles that would miss her barely, precision reminiscent of shinobi whos names in Konoha would be a legend, and she would know that Xiahou, who called himself a Shogun, held a power enough to stand against any she had met. Wounds carved into trees behind her, trunks splintering bark at the knives' behest while Xiahou closed into the triumvirate who sought to tear him from his conquest. Seisakata met a blade, and the Shogun darted right, slipping beneath the heft of a staff while letting his left knee buckle and erecting the opposite, intending to sweep the legs of the leftmost attacker while withdrawing Sairin from his adjacent hip. Winds signaled the Sunrise, whistling poetically at the strum of Xiahou's fingers, pulling at the robes and skin of the falling combatant and the two who came toward him still, a sudden boost of speed causing them to stumble as the stag rose to glide between them. Lost in the mastery of Xiahou's blade caligraphy, limbs would topple as he freed himself, whipping Oath and Sunrise back toward the man in gold, who had secured his position behind the Genin, eliciting a grimace from the Lord of Iron.

Blade poised at Ting's throat, the Genin reacted swifter than Xiahou could have imagined, gathering her chakra expert swiftness and assaulting the leader's knee, causing it to crack and give way beneath him. Muscle fibers twitching in his wrist were all that Xiahou needed to make his call, unwilling to allow the blood of Konoha's children to be rent on the soil, and suddenly, the Shogun was gone. Raijin's hidden passages, painting lines of traversal through space and time, brought him to the weapons implanted behind them in the trees, bursting into reality from nothing Xiahou came with gauntlet wrapping around the blade that threatened to end Ting's life, grasping it and pushing it away while the samurai spun around the genin's body. Swords sheathed somewhere betwixt his instant transmission, the samurai found himself toying with the idea of how to proceed, and settled on a conservative gambit which he felt was likely to ensure the woman's safety, though would not allow him to end this conflict here and now. With his free hand, Xiahou would attempt to encircle the young woman in a brief embrace and spin her outwards while sliding his left hand down along the blade in its grasp. All to plan, Ting would find herself thrown gently, though not without urgency, to the dirt, and in spite of deep slices in the leather of Xiahou's glove which dug lightly into his flesh, the samurai would not relent.

Expert as he was, the leader of this cult, as with those he had dueled in the husk of Wind Country, displayed prowess exceeding the average shinobi, hopping backward on his right leg and conjuring a show of lights with his chakra. Lasers spun in technicolor patterns, twisting to attack the samurai from many angles as he began his strafe, aiming to move the attention of his foe away from those most at risk while drawing Seisakata to absorb what blows he could. Lights singed the Shogun's armor, leaving black trails like pillars of smoke against its maroon surface and staining ornamental decorations with their presence. With eyes flickering across the campsite, Xiahou could identify the men aiming to exploit his attention, primarily focused on the lightshow which already had begun to pierce his defenses, and drawing it away enough for the leader's second onslaught. Lightning and water paired within the gold-clad foe, flowing through his skin and eyes to propel him forward, striking with a thunderous boom, a hammer forged of light and sound that impacted Xiahou's armor forcibly, sending glowing cracks and strands of Ranton chakra surging through his body. Smoke and burned skin followed the display, which would erupt from the apex of his strike and hurl debris outward, winds of force uprooting tents and stripping lanterns hung around them into the dark, extinguishing the bonfire with its sudden upheaval.

Several meters thrown, Xiahou found himself tumbling through the dirt and trees until finally, he was able to right himself, after what felt like minutes lost between the blast and silence where only the fraction between a heartbeat had elapsed. Breathing heavy, Xiahou stood and brought Seisakata to bear before him, soil and blood staining his mouth and arms while the molten strands of electrified metal clung to his body as best they could before an inevitable fall, rapidly cooling into misshapen heaps around him. In the dark and cold, surrounded by fog, Xiahou cursed the Raikage and his sordid undertaking, but prepared himself for the remainder of the night's war, suppressing what pain he could through gritted teeth and zealous focus. Whether this was his foe's best attempt to put him down or not, Xiahou would treat the war as having only just begun.

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十六代目

J U T S U | | I T E M S

6Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Re: Gold and Iron (ting) on Sun Nov 11, 2018 6:37 pm

Ting

Ting



In such a strange instance as one in which death seems a real probability, it’s interesting what might go through someone’s mind. As soon as Ting felt the cold steel sliding across the skin of her throat, she fully believed she had messed this one up in an irredeemable way. For but a moment, the young woman accepted her end. As if she had left her body, Ting would view the surroundings at an angle. Several large herbivores looked up with a suddenness, toward the scene unfolding. Large creatures with impressive antlers would break into a thunderous retreat from the perceived threat. All except for a single one. A large white elk with eyes that reflected as red would stand his ground, staring through the heavily wooded forest toward the noise of men crying out and steel whispering through the air in clean strokes. The absolute massacre of the cultists would be seen by Ting, but not so much perceived as adrenaline fed her these visions and images which seemed not to make any sense. The young woman was spaced out as Xiahou grappled the blade which threatened her life and managed to safely free her from a quick end, pulling her into his arm and then tossing her to the ground with a spin. She would land upon the earthy forest floor which sported much in terms of autumn colored leaves or red, yellow, and orange variety.

She had landed as safely as one could have hoped in this situation, several feet from the now entangled warriors of great power. Crippled at least slightly, the man in the golden robes would retain quite a bit of mobility on his right leg yet, backing away from the samurai warrior before him and launching a flurry of beams which seemed to move with an unnatural fluidity of motion. Her savior would move off to one side in a combination of dodging and repositioning so that the weak who were still near would not be harmed. Ting was still conscious and still able to move. Returning from her trance like state of adrenaline surging through her body, the Konoha genin would find time to act once again. There were still others here who needed to escape the danger. Most of the cultist lay torn to hits, others out of commission from lighter yet still disabling strikes of the samurai warriors blade. As Ting skittered across the ground toward the other terrified shinobi, the deafening boom of the ranton hammer making contact with Xiahou would render her dizzy for a moment, her ears attempting to recover before the forceful wave of the impact would force her back to the ground as the camp was left in ruin by the attack. A strange creaking alerted Ting to a nearby oak, which was massive in size and likely very old. Scorch marks left an impressive cut in the trunk, just enough that this shockwave from the hammer blow would start it tipping forward.

Each of the other kidnapped youth were positioned almost directly in the path of the falling oak. Without another thought, her body took action before her mind could. A series of chain reactions would occur within her body, starting off with muscle tissue enveloping her legs. The surface of the capillaries within her lungs would expand allowing each breath she drew in to provide even more, her body reaching a state of enhanced physical capabilities in just an instant. She would spring forward at an impressive speed shunting the genin closes to the tree out of the way with an unfortunately necessary tackle. She would find herself taking his place only just in time, the massive tree slamming into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around it and adjusted the positioning of her legs.

Get the FUCK out of the way!” She would shout with a primal anguish, bearing the full weight of such an ancient tree. Veins intensified throughout her biceps and quadriceps as she let out an anguished cry, pulling the tree toward her slightly only to give it a forward push with her maximum effort, letting fly an improvised battering ram poised to smash the man in gold directly, or at least cause a distraction to give Xiahou an opening.




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7Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Re: Gold and Iron (ting) on Thu Dec 20, 2018 4:17 am

Yōsei

Yōsei

S-rank
Lifting in a shoal above the canopy, native birds formed a rainbow in the skies above the isolated patch of forest, silence spurned by a great upheaval of noise and violence. Xiahou could remember the colors of wings and beaks, identified by trained eyes which observed them flutter as they rose, memories of childhood exploration, and the education of his father's expertise still lingering in the back of his mind. With a swift exodus, the flock's force brought down a rain of brass petals, spinning in and out of view through shafts of moonlight as the Shogun made his effort to stand, firm hands planted in dirt and grass to dig trenches with them as lightning gathered in his palms and eyes. Suppressing his chakra, there would be only a fraction of peace between the boom and bustle of combat before the samurai would again be called to arms and his missive would not allow him to reveal, beyond his inveterate skill with Seisakata, the truth of a persona hidden beneath Iron Country's stoic facade.

With great force, the Sealer drew a storm of lightning chakra back within himself, swallowing the energy with his pores as he stood, clutching the hilt of Konoha's sacred Oath in his left hand while his eyes swept the battlefield searching for his foe in gold. Locking eyes on a moving target, which closed toward him with speed comparable to his own, Xiahou whipped Seisakata in a spiral, clashing with a beam of light thrown from the cultist's fingertips, watching as the threads of chakra refracted into countless darting lights. Seisakata's edge hummed as the samurai danced away, pivoting on his right foot to circle-strafe around as Jashin's heir unleashed another volley of Ranton lasers toward him from his hands. Deflecting the flurry with the face of his sword, Xiahou's cracked armor would shine with the blue glow emitted from the Oath's edge, illuminated by the pale light of dancing lightning, undamaged by the assault. The Pillar would twist, crying through the air as Hiraishin would carry Xiahou to the golden figure's side, attempting to lop at his outstretched arms and cut off the source of his assault, but being met with a defensive sphere of burning chakra, causing him to retreat on his back foot, grimacing and growling lowly through gritted teeth.

The leader of this cult, one that had buried its roots deep in Konoha's forests, possessed a power far more significant than the swordsman that the Sealer had cut down in Suna's wailing dunes. Yelling out from behind the veil of lightning and wind, baritone crashing against the battlefield as chakra welled within his hands and gullet, spreading golden shapes of the Uzumaki's sealing script as he bellowed.

"This will not stand! I will not allow your profane acts to stain this land any longer! Zettai Harāmu!"

From the Sealer's hands, a seal would appear in glimmering scripture, the forest heaving with the force of fuinjutsu before collapsing in toward the Samurai and placing a symbol on his forehead. The haze which followed would accompany Xiahou's advance, withdrawing Sairin from his hip and hopping with the blades in tandem while the seal's chakra would exert its will on reality, preventing the formation of the opponent's defenses. With his second step, Xiahou would vanish and sweep from the foe's right, causing him to leap away as Seisakata dug a shallow trench into the man's thigh as his hands fumbled to perform hand seals. Sairin's singing winds would crash against the man's back, halting his withdrawal as the corner of Xiahou's eyes caught the woman he had freed clashing with the weight of a mighty oak which crumbled toward the earth, threatening to crush her beneath its heft. The Sealer's lips contorted through the field of chakra, eyes widening as the woman's strength allowed her to persist, calling forth that Will of Fire he knew so well to launch the tree toward his foe with surprising quickness. Sealing away Seisakata without delay, the Sealer's fingertips would form a seal of Konoha's legacy, the confrontation ending as it had begun. Unable to activate a sufficient defense, and caught off guard by the girthy wooden projectile, the man found himself suddenly airborne, utilizing his only method of escape to propel himself heavenward in an effort to survive.

Vanishing and slashing with Sairin as he emerged, the cloaked figure would see his arm assaulted by the katana, which drew forth and rent the limb in twain before the Sealer's Taijutsu allowed him to spin his leg, launching the man back toward the ground with enough force to crack the night's silence and send leaves billowing away. In a cloud of dust, the cult leader's body would ragdoll for several meters, trailing a wealth of blood and gore behind it as the eviscerated stump where once had been an arm dragged through the forest floor. Dejected and close to death, the cultist's mind raced to find a solution for the samurai's impossible quickness, memory flooded with legends of a man who once protected these woods. Summoning the last of his strength, a massive wealth of Ranton chakra would collect around him, burning the air to vapor as it formed, bursting the seams of light and color into a kaleidoscopic array of energy. Dozens of spheres drew inward, collecting near the cultist's mouth, compressing into a ball of iridescent luminance roughly the size of an apple before he would bite down upon it, causing a fluctuation of chakra to ripple outward, pushing air past the campsite and creating an influx of chakra from the Ranton cages surrounding them.

"Move!"

The Sealer's voice came out toward all who could hear it before the storm. Focused only on Xiahou, the cultist's rain of technicolor nails came en masse, drawing in toward his target with vicious streaks of light through midnight air, steam rising from the burning oxygen and igniting into rainbow flames that hung in the wind. Xiahou was off like a bolt of lightning, taking his position away from the others, trying to ward off danger while Seisakata emerged from between his fingers to deflect and block what beams he could as the violent display of chakra screamed through the clearing. Hopping and weaving, the Sealer's feet slid through dirt and leaves, kicking up a swathe of dust as he clung desperately to the safe spaces between the tearing lasers. A display of supreme offense met with seals that burst into the air, Xiahou unable to restrain himself and fight with the talents of Iron Country alone, no longer capable of overcoming such a foe by their merits and resorting to the tricks he knew so well. The fuinjutsu came forth like a second skin, eating away the beams he could not dodge as the light show ripped the forest to pieces around him. Blows hammered his armor, striking the red shell and causing it to shatter piece by piece, flying away in crimson dust, stripping the soldier of his facade.

When the lights of the first barrage faded, Yōsei found himself in a field of burning woodland, vaporized trees, covered in ashes, and heaving through the thick smoke. With his facade burned away, white hair returning from beneath the shoal of ebon deceit he wore, the Sixteenth lumbered forward toward the waiting form of his opponent, whose mouth slowly parted, revealing a brilliant core of light within. Eyes wide, the Sealer's hands began to weave the seals necessary for its removal, and in an instant, the night turned to day as a magnificent beam barreled forth from the cultist's mouth, the final display of power carving a trench through earth and dirt, destroying everything in its path. Raising his hand, the Sealer's formula would appear midair, covering the space between them with black scripture as Hiraishin's power did its duty. Swallowed by the space-time barrier, the light was gone as quickly as it appeared. In the distance, far away at the border of the nation, a light shot heavenward, breaking the inky blackness of the horizon with a stroke of white paint that shone over the landscape.

Yōsei's step would see him vanish, appearing wherever the marked girl had found shelter from the barrage that he had led astray, and if she were still alive, he would offer his hand, emerald eyes transfixed on her before they would disappear again. For Ting, this transposition would be a first, and she would have to manage with the strange sensation of teleportation as they spat back into reality, chains igniting from the Uzumaki's back and shooting forth to ensnare the leader of this profane communion in their clutches. Streaming with chakra, the Adamantine Sealing Chains would bind their foe and force him to his knees, struggling with all his strength against their unwavering grip. Bruised and burned, blood leaking from partially cauterized cuts across his naked chest, Yōsei would scream to his newfound ally.

"Now! This is your right! Show him what it means to stand against the Hidden Leaf!"

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十六代目

J U T S U | | I T E M S

8Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Re: Gold and Iron (ting) on Fri Dec 28, 2018 3:53 am

Ting

Ting



It was a spectacle unlike anything Ting had ever seen, and possibly unlike anything she would ever see. The two warriors who fought with such immense power were giants among men. It seemed almost inhuman how much devastation was being unleashed upon the land in simple, single acts. Using an ancient oak for cover, Ting would stare around the corner at the light show erupting somewhere deeper within the sea of foliage. The maneuvers and attacks that occurred appeared as blinding, barely perceptible flecks of light across her vision. Even the most trained eyes might not have been able to effectively follow such a raging bout between legendary powers. She had taken the time moments earlier to see if the rest of the now freed captives of the cult. She too should have fled, if she were listening to the signals her body was giving her. It was the intelligent thing to do, but was it what a sworn defender of Konoha should do?

The kunoichi had mustered her will to throw an enormous tree at the leader of the cultists, she had remained in place to help free others from captivity and she was still standing within danger as the battle unraveled. She was not running away now. Not until she saw that Konoha was safe. It was her maneuver which worked to Xiahou’s advantage, pushing the conflict even more into his favor as he seemed to deliver a brutal strike to drive the cultist downwards, into to the ground with Herculean might. The blue haired girl would look on, stepping closer by only a few meters before realizing it was far from over. One final devastation was in store. A barrage unlike anything prior would rip forth through the fallen cultists position. The projectiles which missed their mark would annihilate whatever they came into contact with, ripping and tearing through trees. The smell of scorched wood permeated the air as Ting did the best she could to evade the wreckage of battle waged all around her. Not even the large stone she had sought shelter behind protected from the powerful ranton, one nail putting a clean cut through the rock and slicing across the top of Ting's shoulder - cauterizing the wound simultaneously.

As a medical expert herself, she knew well that based on the nature of this wound she would have been killed outright should it have hit more toward her center mass. When the barrage was over, she would stand up once again to view the scene as it unfolded, and within her view was a figure she never thought she would see, for he was a dead man walking. In all of the glorious valor one would have expected from the history lessons taught in Konohagakure’s academy, the form only able to be described as the Sixteenth Hokage, Mitsuhide Uzumaki. The white hair gleaming atop his head, his visage was not identical to the photographs she had seen, but there was no mistaking it. His disguise was no more, and Ting had no idea of the forces she was currently caught in the mix with. The powerful cultist before them had one final trick as he clenched a powerful energy within his mouth, blasting it forward with such force and destructive potential that it carved the earth itself along its trajectory. Only when it met the raised hand of Mitsuhide would it cease to be, appearing a distance away from the scene, shooting up into the dark skies above.  

She would have no time at all to make sense of the situation before the white haired legend appeared in front of her with an offering of his hand, which Ting would not hesitate to grasp. The most peculiar feeling would sweep over her as she did so, and her senses would experience the most brief instance of nothingness before she was plunged back into an overwhelming sensory explosion - now relocated just in front of the battered  leader of the kidnapping cultists who had brought with them disgusting acts to her village, and brought harm to her people.

The powerful words of the sixteenth energized the genin as he restrained the foe before them in an instant, Ting would not hesitate. Overtaken by a motivation and power she had never felt before in all of her days of life, Ting would feel her arm tingle with intensity before a very painful burning sensation erupted through her left tricep. Her roar of triumph and rage was one of great relief as she took a single step forward throwing her right hand forth only as a counterbalance to her step, it was as though she was about to pitch with her left hand. As it flew forward, all of her bodies weight and an unregulated overflow of chakra surfing through her arm, she would slam the left fist into the cultists face and carry his head, along with the rest of his body downward into the ground. The ground itself would buckle and crack beneath her strike, a shockwave annihilating the terrain around the impact zone. The thunderous crackle of trees uprooted and toppled would likely mask the sound of the villain’s skull crumbling at the raw power concentrated against it. The entire area of around 30 meters would suffer massive cracks in the forest floor and a plume of dust would rise up from it, reaching just over the smoldering remains of the trees.

Ting would stand and turn toward the Sixteenth, her eyes void of life as she clung to the last of her consciousness. She would give a thumbs up toward him before crumbling to the ground in fatigue. Her haphazard iteration of chakra enhanced strength had utilized all of the chakra she had available rather than dispersing it evenly when needed for attacks. She had truly given everything to show that cultist what it meant to stand against the Hidden Leaf.  

The carnage and destruction which had been carved through the section of the forest this battle had taken place in was unimaginable. The henchman of the golden robed cultist had all been dispatched. The other genin had long since fled. The only figure left standing amidst that carnage was Yosei, and he had just witnessed the young spirit of Konoha in full force.




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9Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Re: Gold and Iron (ting) on Fri Jan 11, 2019 6:20 pm

Yōsei

Yōsei

S-rank
Chakra caught in currents soared heavenward above the canopy, searing beams of energy dancing across Fire Country's border made a mockery of the still and dark blanket of night. The Sixteenth ducked and wove throughout a performance of divine judgment, Seisakata roaring shades of blue skies as the blade swung mercilessly into pillars of light, slicing them into prism sheets that split in radiant array throughout the trees and earth. In its wake, Konoha's Oath left a glowing trail of azure, marking the strokes of elegant calligraphy drawn into the space between Yōsei and his assailant. When all was said and done, the assault quietened, giving way to the silence of the autumn night and lending to the Sealer wounds of a storm which he could not weather without the help of sacred tools and sealing script, gateways between worlds that strung together a path of violence toward upheaval somewhere against the ebon horizon. To the west, light merged with stars on a canvas where magnificence could prosper, leaving stains of rainbow fractals glittering in the air.

Descending from on high toward the clearing, through thick trees and burned wood, charred remains of forest and earth smoldering with the heat of storm and lightning, fuinjutsu peeling away from the battlefield, the Sixteenth stood stalwart, rebuking the suffering drawn forth from his foe's gullet. Face stained somber ran vicious with the promise of revenge, and Yōsei was gone, transposing himself where retribution and courage met to call forth the woman whose defiance had imposed upon the Sealer's mind tales of great heroes. Chains rattling from his back, Yōsei bellowed out with familiar insurgence, trapping their mark between them with threads of golden chakra, binding him to the ground as blades and hooks dug neatly into the dirt and wrapped like the webs of spiders through the shredded remains of trees and tents to string their quarry on high between them. Words rang out across the field, searing the solitude with cries of war which called Ting to act on behalf of herself and her nation, where the strength of her homeland would empower her. Through expert eyes, Yōsei watched the woman summon her strength, surging with ageless power as she unleashed the fist toward him, shattering his skull and driving him into the earth with a force that sought to propel him through this life into the bowels of Naraka. The Sealer could feel still a cold wind blow through the woodland, lifting the shoal of burning oak away for precious seconds before it would return, nostrils flared as he thought of home.

Cracking the earth with her strength, Ting's blow rendered the conflict null with a single act of profound justice, sending force enough to break the ground, sundering the fetid heath and causing it to splinter violently, large cracks jutting at abstract angles around the trio. As the leader's chakra signature faded from the world, spirit departing along the wheel of Samsara to some unknown plane where it would dwell for the years to come. Collapsing before Yōsei, Ting would plummet toward the ground with her eyes closing, drawing the Sealer forward in time with her descent, arms extending to catch the falling woman in his grasp and slow her drop into the cradle of his hold, from which he would lower her onto her back. Face stoic, Yōsei would close his eyes in tandem, opening the emerald gaze to be replaced with golden irises, orange war paint plastered around his eyes as the world drew nature toward him, creeping out from hiding places nestled in the soil. Roused from slumber, Senjutsu chakra awakened in the Sixteenth's core, inveterate precision drawing forth the essence of the World and molding it with the stream of energy within. Taking Ting's body in his left hand, he would raise the woman's unconscious forehead, swelling chakra into the tip of his finger and placing the digit gently between her eyes.

From the point of contact, a wave of Senjutsu chakra would barrel forth into the woman, minute strands of natural energy tapering into the chakra system of his ally to invigorate her, causing a rush of primal potential to cry out beneath their skin as the Sealer imparted the World onto her. Yōsei's eyes, shimmering Toad Sage amber, with alien pupils staring forth toward her, would transfix on the woman's chakra as it pulsed and adapted to the cleansing rain of nature's claim, writhing beneath his touch before the calm would overtake her and the two would become as one, connected by the bridge that Yōsei had constructed between them. Through this bond, perhaps Ting would see the graveyard of Yōsei's memory, strewn with endless sword-horizons where a thousand of the Sixteenth's thoughts worked feverishly on sealing scripture written high into the clouds, towering behemoths of ink and knowledge. Beneath the skin of the Sealer's dreams, the vault-like facade of calm indifference, Ting would glimpse the dogs of war that bayed beyond tombstones, held back by those same golden chains of Uzumaki heritage once used to bind the Tailed Beasts that now grasped feelings unused by Yōsei's taken name. Rushing over the landscape of ruined thoughts, the young hero would bear witness to a man who stood on the precipice of a world aflame, aurelian hair that flickered with the wind and rain, stained with blood and fury. In the ravaged horizon beyond the Sealer's fierce, discarded other life, she would see the shapes of giant beasts against the backdrop of fire, and Mitsuhide, true and bold as he was known, not withheld by the mysterious Yōsei's new directive, would cry out with vehemence that marked him as a man of war.

"How many ghosts must stand at my back before you see why this old heart aches for war?"

998


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十六代目

J U T S U | | I T E M S

10Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Re: Gold and Iron (ting) on Sat Jan 19, 2019 2:18 am

Ting

Ting



In the depths of her unconscious mind, something beyond the young genin would wash over her like the rising tides washed over the shoreline of a distant beach. Within her mind, her eyes shot open and she saw so much, but initially understood so little. The mysterious Lord Sixteenth and the dark imagery of his own mind presented themselves to Ting across a bridged gap of oneness, constructed of the powerful natural energy the Toad Sage had imparted to her. After she took her time analyzing and taking part in the very cryptic imagery of his mind. Her eyes were wide and it seemed so much to take in. The visage was apocalyptic in nature, golden chains clanged as they restrained unimaginable forces of war which Ting could not quite comprehend. And then there were beasts at his heel in the shadow of a blaze. Ting would never forget those words he send forward unto her.

The pulsating natural energy he had bestowed unto her would reverberate, confirmation that though her eyes remained, life was still surging through her bones and her inner will of fire was still alive, although reduced to gentle embers in her weakness. Across that symbolic bridge Lord Sixteenth would see a life struck into being within an unnatural setting. Science. In vitro fertilization was something not commonly practiced in the shinobi world so, leaving the imagery rather odd. A young girl living in the shadow of a figure unseen in decades or more. Raised in squalor and succumbing to that same squalor as an apple that fell from its branch but remained tangled in the brambles and branches of its own tree. There it would rot. A tall mound of powdery white substance singed the nostrils with every sniffle. The overwhelming rush of ones mind into a higher plane. The energy and invigoration supplied was enough to make a person stay there forever, and a young woman with cyan hair laughed with blood running from her nostrils atop a snowcapped mountain.

And that was when she fell from its peak. Plummeting to the ground, naked and afraid, Yosei would witness this projection of Ting exposed and violated by faces and figures unknown to her. The feeling of hopelessness and the collapse of an existence flying high above society, simultaneously crawling through its filth. The Dragon of Konohagakure would appear, a knight of vengeance who saved her soul. She viewed herself rising from ashes of a life left behind her and the will of fire in her heart would burst forward into a roaring blaze once again as her physical eyes shot open, the connection of their minds parting. She would gaze into those bright, amber colored orbs socketed within his skull. Awakened by powerful and foreign energies, Ting would reach forward and place it weakly upon the Sixteenth’s chest.

Did the rest of the captives make it away? Have their been any Leaf casualties?” her voice was steady, impressively so for someone who had been through what she had just endured. Even after everything, her selfless mind had gone immediately to the well-being if anyone other than herself. In the presence of such a giant as Yosei, now known to her as Namikaze, Mitsuhide of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, she cared not for formalities or niceties. Ting, looked around from the shattered floor of the surrounding woods. She was fortunate that the morning sun had yet to peak, the chunin exams beginning the very same morning. It was only by an absolute wonder that she hadn’t suffered enough damage to be outright useless in them, considering the level of violence and collateral damage which had taken place. The wound upon her shoulder had been cauterized just as it occurred, but that served her only minority as she felt the pain anytime she moved it. Tears welled in her eyes as her mind dredged through swamps of negative emotion. Yet again she had been saved, a damsel in distress. The pitiful allowance of the final blow given to her by a man who held more power than she had ever fathomed. First Takao of the Kimura and now a man thought long dead by the village she loved. She averted her eyes from that of the mysterious man who had restored her consciousness for but a moment, meeting his eyes once more after a brief pause.

Why am I always the one who needs saving? When will I become the savior? Tell me, Mitsuhide Namikaze, how does one become the savior in this world?” Her arm, fractured in several places would reach back and lift her body from the cold ground, her face twisted into a wince as she brought herself to her feet. She would limp, carefully planning each motion toward the epicenter of her al-powerful strike to the ground. Her eyes would scan the man she had delivered the final blow to, and off to the side she would spot something peculiar. The mask he had been wearing before the fighting had erupted. It lay, porcelain white against the fresh, dark soil of the devastated earth. Not so much as a crack along its sinister grin. Ting would keep the mask held in her hand as she looked back toward Yosei.

Why were they here? Who were they?” she felt somehow he had to know. A man so full of secrets and forbidden knowledge. She had seen many things she wasn’t sure of when they shared that momentary connection, but what she did know was that the man before her had likely gleaned something about her as well in the exchange. Whether or not he knew was irrelevant. She had a feeling if he didn’t know, he could find out. Where had he been for all of those many years? A Hokage of the Hidden Leaf thought dead for so long, parading in disguise within the villages own walls. A simple kunoichi such as herself had just unwillingly opened the doors to something of such complexity and sensitivity. Her world would likely never be the same after this night.




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11Gold and Iron (ting) Empty Re: Gold and Iron (ting) on Fri Apr 12, 2019 8:31 pm

Ting

Ting



The very fabrics of ones being were interconnected with that of nature and everything else. Chakra itself was an anomaly when compared with the raw potency of nature energy, or Senjutsu. It was easy to think of things in this way and underestimate the raw talent necessary for harnessing such an incredible force within the body. Seasoned shinobi would dedicate decades to the art of training and mastering sage arts. It wasn't so simple as just doing. As the war torn battlefield seemed to cackle and smolder even still, the senjutsu infusion given to young Ting worked chaotically against her. It craved, like a sentient being, to recreate the fabrics which composed the woman and make her "better."

As she spent what felt like eternity in her own mind, the color would drain would from her hair, her skin would take on a darker tone, her eyes would become yellowed. The pale-skinned, hazel eyed girl would cease to be, for that visage had always been a shell. Ting Shimura had been carefully crafted right from the start.  She had always held within her the Jugo bloodline, but due to her nature of birth it required activation. There was a reason she just didn't seem to have any known relatives or have any physical features that matched up with known kekkei genkai.

As she lay upon the rubble with dreams and thoughts of the life of another, Ting had no idea what was happening outside. Whether her savior had any idea that this would happen was beyond her. Though the intended purpose of such an infusion was benevolent, nobody could have predicted the way someone else's body would react to nature energy. Even if this had spelled the end of the young kunoichi, nobody would have been able to prevent that. Her mind would shift to a more primal state as she slumbered. The first person perspective of a ravenous, bloodthirsty beast bounding through the treetops chasing prey. The prey, a group of bandits from one of the minor villages to the east. She was an apex predator. The perfect blend of man and beast, as part of her forearm extended into a long jagged blade, something like a piece of stone, she would smile.

From the tree branches she could see it all plain as day. The looters had come to pillage the bodies of the damned after the events which had transpired earlier. Something that may have involved...her? No, she was merely a beast on the prowl. It wouldn't make sense for..

She leapt unblinking and no longer thinking, there was no need to. The jagged formation on her wrist would puncture somewhere between the taller of three looters' temple and ear, her weight and force carrying his entire body to the floor with her. She would break off the body transformation weapon and leave the man spurting blood with failed attempts to speak coming from the spaces in his mouth which weren't already filled with crimson. Her left foot would sweep across the scorched earth and catch the center most if the three at the ankle. The usual result of such a maneuver would be a tripping, but as her ankle connected with his a jet of chakra would emit from the back, propelling it harder and faster. The result was a devastating crack as neither his flesh nor his bone could distribute the impact enough to stop her leg from brutally moving through  him with loud, uncomfortable crackling noises.

This sort of unfair, incessant brutality would carry on for what felt like forever as Ting, no longer herself, eviscerated any and all of the straggling looters throughout the wooded forests of Konoha. She wouldn't remember these events the next morning: the first day of the chunin exams. She would also lose that new appearance and have her shell replaced as though it were all a dream.




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