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1 How Paths Can Wander [Private] on Wed Dec 05, 2018 1:50 pm

Rokumaru

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Chuunin
At night, when the pale moon rose above the horizon and the nocturnal winds carried the calls of crepuscular forest creatures emerging from their holes, Konohagakure would briefly wallow in the darkness accompanying dusk. Tall buildings and skyscrapers silhouetted against the surrounding landscape appeared as solemn monoliths in contrast to the hovels and residences clustered all around them. Then, after mere moments of darkness and tranquility, the entire city would alight with the yellow glow of electrical bulbs and street lamps, becoming an illuminated beacon alone in a sea of swaying treetops. The sight of so much civilization concentrated in one single area was a rare one when so many human settlements across the land existed as groups of shacks centered around whatever local resource the people could make a living from; besides the capitol cities of the various Daimyō, sights such as the one Rokumaru enjoyed existed only where the Four Hidden Villages stood today.

The people of the Leaf were apparantly aware of what a sight the village lit up at night would make, as they had created a rather impressive vista atop the rocky cliffs Konoha crowded around that they had carved into the faces of the previous Hokage. Above the stony likeness of the First Hokage the cliffside had been worn away and smoothed into a level walking surface, scuffed from the boots of countless generations of Konoha-nin, and the carved effigy rose just slightly above the cliff it jutted out from to offer an unhindered view of the surrounding landscape. Many of the carved faces of the Hokage Monument had some sort of viewing platform like this to add to the village’s picturesque reputation and take advantage of Hi no Kuni’s natural beauty, but Roku found that he enjoyed the older one’s better. The first few loomed over central Konoha and its most important districts, letting one look down on all that kept the Village Hidden in Leaves in its place above the other, lesser villages. They had also been spared the gratuitous development several other heads on the cliff side had forced upon them with high-value residential properties, opulent businesses and administrative-related buildings.

Here, atop the carved likeness of a legendary and ancient shinobi he did not who the name of, Rokumaru had found one of the few places in the entire village that seemed almost tranquil and detached from the activity taking place hundreds of meters below; the ceaseless chirping of voices in the streets would be lost to the wind long before it could reach the cliffs, and so long as he came at night there were very few civilians willing to make the climb to enjoy a cliched view of the land they had lived in all their lives. Sunagakure had no structure or natural formation that served only to provide a breathtaking view of the village and the land surrounding it; elevation in Kaze no Kuni was limited to the few tall buildings that had stood in the administrative-district, the tallest dune of sand that you could find or as high as you could jump. He envied the Leaf for the simultaneous beauty and strength it seemed to waft from every orifice; having only been graced with the sight of two of the five Great Villages, he had to wonder if the other three had similar qualities.

But Rokumaru had discovered, analyzed and appreciated the great views afforded by the Hokage Monument in his first week within the village, and it was beginning to grow familiar and mundane in a way that he found complacent and alarming. Now, when he visited the clearing above the First Hokage’s carved likeness, it was to either absorb his daily requirement of aestheticall beauty if there had been few pretty faces in the streets or to spy on those who also visited the site. Unlike the vast majority of faces lining the stretch of cliffs, few civilians would bother making the climb here and fewer still were willing to jump through the hoops needed to wander through the shinobi districts of the village as a civilian to even reach the spot. It narrowed the visitors of this spot to the more motivated among the local populace or shinobi, the latter being much more interesting to a curious potential enemy such as the sand-laden redhead.

As he would often do when faced with the remaining hours of the day that weren’t spent slogging through D and C-Ranked missions, Rokumaru would observe those who came to sit atop the cliffs and study what he could. His selection of specimens were almost always Genin, Chuunin and low-level Special Jounin; without stronger techniques to mask his presence more perceptive shinobi would almost immediately know they were being watched, and would leave out of caution or scare the teen off with threats of violence. On one occasion, a woman wearing Kirigakure garb plucked Rokumaru from the few grains of sand scattered around the clearing and threw him from the cliff to the streets below. After thanking the masked ANBU who had caught his leg with chakra wire and turned the shattering of his entire skeleton when he hit the ground into a simple dislocation, he made it a point to only watch and bother the people he assumed were any rank lower than Chuunin.

Tonight was another spent hiding atop the Hokage Monument in the form of grainy silicates, spying on those who journeyed to the cliffs on a whim. Many who came were of little interest, even to him: several Exam participants from foreign lands coming to get an obligatory view of the gorgeous Konoha landscape, some strange canine wearing a Leaf Hitai-ate as a collar stopped by to briefly mark its territory (which really tickled the boy when he realized he could literally piss on the legacy of every Hokage), and a rather determined civilian youth who seemed to use the gorgeous view of Konoha illuminated against the dark forests beyond the walls as muse for his poetry. Pretty good stuff from what Roku could hear from his spot several feet away in a pile of sand, but he wasn’t here to absorb the pointless ramblings of lovestruck civilians now matter how verbose and emotional it was. Wiping away the tear threatening to escape from the flowery words of longing the man spoke, Rokumaru scared him off with several pebbles thrown using his sand to remotely manipulate the stones.

Now, he laid in wait for another unsuspecting soul to arrive in search of natural beauty, bored from fruitless hours spent in the presence of garden variety shinobi and civilians. Feeling a bit whimsical, feeling a bit of the youthful exuberance he was supposed to still possess, he considered what he could do to the next person to show up on what he was beginning to think of as his carved Hokage. It had been a long, draining month spent in this village of strangers that begrudgingly allowed his presence; perhaps he was entitled to a bit of fun at someone else’s expense for once. The sand he hid within as a chakra construct flowed across the smooth cliff until it began to gather into a pile of aggregates resembling a parody of the dunes of his home. An unusual sight, a mound of sand on top of the cliff that was not blown away by the ever-present breeze at this elevation, and hopefully a good distraction should someone prank-worthy show up. If it was a young shinobi from one of the other villages, he definitely would pounce on the opportunity to harass a foreigner if it made himself feel even a tiny bit better about himself and the situation he was in. Only one way to find out: even if he had to wait all night, someone was going to be punished for the sin of trespassing.

1307

Chakra - 285/300:
Name: Sand Release: Hiding in Sand
Canon/Custom: Custom
Rank: C
Type: Supplementary
Element: Sabaton
Range: 15m
Specialty: Ninjutsu
Duration: 1 post
Cooldown: 5 posts
Description: Similar to Earth Release: Hiding Like a Mole, this technique allows the user to bury themselves in their sand by converting their body into the substance itself. The user can then move through any body of sand in contact with the original sand they buried themselves in up to 15m in any direction. This is very dangerous around Katon users, however, as if the sand they are hiding as is turned to glass it will instantly kill the user, never allowing them to return to their original form.


____

Ninjutsu: S-Rank | Kugutsu: B-Rank
Doton: B-Rank |  Fūton: A-Rank | Suiton: B-Rank |
Sabaton: B-Rank
-Mission Count-
D-5|C-12|B-1|A-0|S-0

2 Re: How Paths Can Wander [Private] on Fri Dec 07, 2018 10:33 pm

Taeru

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Her left shoulder would dip downwards as her form twisted out of the way as a young male hurried past, hustling his form away at a pace that too many could be seen at ‘quickly’, looking quite, to say the least. Yet her form would turn a little further allowing her visible piercing yellow right eye. Though she wouldn't pause for long it would be just long enough to watch the males form retreat, her brow arched before allowing her gaze to scan over the area around her form before setting her sights back upon the top of the hill, still quite some ways to go she would give a subtle sigh. Her right hand would shit to her left bicep, her fingers brushing against the black band of cloth, before allowing her fingers to curl about the muscle, grazing her thumb along, back and forth as though to brush some warmth into it.  Each step would take her further and further up the walk path, closer and closer to the great stone face of the second and first Hokage’s.  what had once been the highest point of Konohagakure no Sato, at least that is what she had been taught once upon a time.  With the way she seemed to absentmindedly observe the area around her, she could very easily be mistaken for a simple villager or one coaxed in with the crowds that had come to bear witness to the chunnin exams.  

clad in a body suit made a pitch black in colour for the most part, being a tight fit to cover her left side from ankle right up to her jawline completely, whereas the right side showed visible flesh of her chest and arm. Yet draped about her form, giving some form of cover to her chest and the area from her waist down to her thighs in a diagonal slant, was a lightweight material, its colour that of deep clotted blood, her gloves the same in colour and material. Her right glove just reaching past the bone in her wrist whilst her left hand’s glove had been specially designed to fit snuggly to the deformity of her hand, missing the space for her missing pinky digit all together, instead made as a perfect fit as though a pinky finger had never had a place within a pair of gloves, a subtle padding within to give some form of not only protection to the hand but comfort, whilst reaching up to her elbow, ensuring the flesh of her left hand and arm would be covered as it lapsed over the body suit itself, however from midways of her biceps would flow wide hemmed sleeves, long enough that the very tips of her fingers would be the only bits visible of her lower arms and hands, the material similar to the drapes about her form, again a deep clotted blood colour. With a blood clot coloured Obi coils about her waist, styled at the back as a taiko musubi, nestled within her obi  one would fine Amai at the front and Tatsu at the back, both seeming like nothing more than simple fans, at a push they might have been considered dancing fans, by the looks of them at least.  Beneath the folds of the draped material ton either side of her, what covered the rise of her chest, on either side would be found her sheathed Ripa tsume blades, one each side with the arched curve of her blades set upwards so that their tips pointed downwards for easy access whilst her kunai sat beneath her bust, all discreetly covered just as her modesty were. Three of her senbon would be nestled into the folds of her drapes, resting against her right shoulder. The other three settled within the high bun of her snow-white hair, the section of hair that would usually be classed as the ‘undercut’ however was left to hang loosely, trailing right the way down her back like a flowing river to brush against her rump whilst she walked as it peeked out from the section of drape she wore like a hood, protecting her from the elements that danced along the Hokage mountain. The left side of her hair, including the left side of her fringe, would be tightly braided with dull loops entrained, attached to said loops a thin veil that would, in turn, be attached to the high collar of her bodysuit, completely covering the left side of her face from view, whilst the right side remained exposed, her cheekbones high enough that she could be considered a regal beauty with the addition of her pointed features and pale flesh, if it was not for the traces of malnutrition set deeply within her, accenting the deep scar that set in a line along her upper and lower lip the material black to match the body suit. Whilst it covered the left side of her face it would also encroach back over the side of her head below the makeshift hood to also cover her ear and though insipid for an onlooker, with the material so close to her she would see through and hear through with very little discomfort now. Standard issue army boots had their place upon her feet yet little sound would flow from her movements, somewhat reminiscent of a waithe.

Nearing her chosen destination it would be her scent that would proceed her, announcing her arrival, sweet, almost sickeningly so, like lilly flowers left in an overly heated room where the resin of a cypress tree smoldered, the scent of long-awaited death, whilst it could un-nerve people it could also comfort, at times.  Keeping her chakra signature almost null to the point of it being a simple annoying buzz, somewhat like white noise in the background if any were to be looking for chakra signatures as she herself had been doing throughout her walk about the village.  As her steps brought her close to a small sand pile, giving it bearly a glance she would give it a somewhat wider birth that she had anything else, almost as though her steps naturally avoided it, keeping it upon her right side as she settled her stace close to the brim of the cliff side, close enough to peer off, her head would tilt downwards as though to simulating looking at the great stone face of the first Hokage yet her gaze  would sweep over the village, for was it not good practice to get a lay of un-familiar lands whilst staying there? Yet not only that she would be able to keep track of her villagers in form of their chakra instead of their scent ad sight alone having made sure to memorize the profile and scent of each that came from Iwagakure no Sato during their travel to Konohagakure no Sato. Her right hand would rise to lightly grip the makeshift hood, holding it just a little ways from the exposed side of her face, her tongue would slip out from between her lips to coat the visible area in a thin layer of moisture only for her to nip down on her bottom lip for a moment to peel it from the teeth. Her grip would tighten as she held the makeshift hood still against the breeze that whipped up the snowy strands of hair, allowing it to flutter off towards the left.






Chakra 380/400:
Name: ANBU Sensory Range (Chikakya: ANBU ~ 知覚野・暗部)
Canon/Custom: Custom.
Rank: B.
Type: Supplementary.
Element: N/A
Range: 100m.
Specialty: ANBU Only
Duration: Maintainable (-10 per turn)
Cooldown: 5 posts.
Description: A technique which allows ANBU members to be able to keep track of the village and their surroundings. These tactical ninja are able to see over long distances with hawk-like eyes, able to pick up the finest of details, from residual chakra from techniques even as faint as the Supernatural Walking Practice, as well as personalized chakra signatures, down to recent footprints and other tracks in broken shrubbery or other environs. [list]
[*]This jutsu gains 100m in range when used in the "-gakure no Sato" or "The Wilderness"forums of your home country.
[*]If there are multiple users in close range (less than 5m), they can add their ranges together to extend the sensing area of this jutsu (so two ANBU in their home country could have a combined 400m sensory radius).

Word count: 1243.


____

Taeru's Theme.
Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo
~Oderint Dum Metuant~
Completed Missions: D-4 C-4 B-6 A-2 S-0

3 Re: How Paths Can Wander [Private] on Mon Dec 10, 2018 2:42 pm

Rokumaru

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Chuunin
Time passed as the moon rose higher and higher above the distant mountains and endless treetop horizon, most of Rokumaru’s attention focused on the approach to the clearing above this carved monument the Leaves had erected for their Kage. The high elevation winds threatened to scatter the aggregate silicates the redhead had stored himself within using a modified Henge and Bunshin to mimic the form of the sand he held in such high regard, only his ability to remotely manipulate the sand keeping himself from being scattered over the village. Knowing very little about the technique he used and it’s limits Roku was not sure if he could recompose himself should the sand he was stored within go beyond a certain distance of each other, something he should have tested a thousand times over; more reason to regret the complacent behavior he had been unable to break free from while he was still a part of the village, more incentive to use what time he had left to get a better grasp on his abilities.

Left with time for introspection as no victim ripe for irritation had appeared, Rokumaru thought further about where he needed to go with his abilities and what habits he would need to let go of. He already knew well enough that everything he had been taught about his Kekkei Genkai, the supposed Sand Release, was really just one basic application of a very versatile ability that others called the Magnet Release. Like being taught to swim by using the backstroke form, then learning that there were many different strokes that were far easier to learn and perform, Roku knew a considerable amount about forming the connection to sand and creating a magnetic charge unique to himself that could bind the substance with while knowing absolutely nothing about how to alter the magnetic charges that already existed in metallic objects. He attributed this to a simple deficiency in practice at dealing with magnetic objects; left on his own to figure out how to affect the polarity of magnetic materials, the redhead had tried over and over to apply what he knew about sand manipulation. Rather than being drawn to his chakra as the sand does like a fish towards water, the flecks of steel he had taken from a scrap pile in a dumpster merely let his chakra wash over it without responding or connecting to the boy whatsoever. He could puzzle it out eventually through trial-and-error, but whether this understanding would come quick enough to be of actual use to him was what stressed him out. He could not escape this power plateau he existed on without the secret of Jiton application and every day he failed caused him to slip further and further away from the prowess of his peers.

A silhouette in the distance drew Rokumaru from his thoughts and the loose mound of sand he existed as buzzed momentarily as he focused on the figure walking further and further into his clutches. His night vision was still too poor to identify the stranger from afar using moonlight alone so he was forced to wait for the individual to get closer to the cliffside where the streetlights below could reach all the way up here. From the generally slim shape of their silhouette and the way their footsteps barely registered against the hardened carved stone of the monument Roku assumed the newcomer was a woman, a young one at that, and he had to remind himself that his fabricated need to harass and bother foreigners should not exclude any gender or age group.

As she drew close enough to the sand-ensconced redhead to be somewhat illuminated by the warm yellow glow of electricity bulbs hundreds of meters below, Rokumaru was not confident enough to determine whether she was a civilian or a kunoichi due to the dark form-fitting attire she wore; and quite a form it was, he couldn’t help but vocalize mentally with amused appreciation. The way she seemed to disregard the mound of sand placed atop the monument uncharacteristically, barely sparing it and Rokumaru a glance before avoiding it, suggested a lack of awareness and common sense that many low-ranked shinobi still possessed from their days as a non-combatant. His anticipation to mess with this stranger only heightened at the prospect of her being at most a weak Genin, someone even he could bully around like a meek pup. If she was just another villager looking for solitude and a view up on his favorite carved face in the mountain, he’d settle for a quick scare before letting her escape.

Letting the woman reach the edge of the cliff and look out across the village, hoping she fully distracted herself from the militant Kaze no Kuni native just a few meters behind her, Rokumaru observed her from his worm’s-eye view on the ground in the sand. His assumptions that the stranger was a low-risk individual seemed vindicated by her appearance; disregarding whatever subjective beauty she may or may not have possessed, her attire was fashionable and complicated with dark flowing fabrics that covered her slim bodysuit-covered form. An Obi-style sash wrapped around her waist in a traditional Musubi style that kept the baggy clothes she wore atop from hanging too far off her slim figure; tucked in at the small of her back was what appeared to be the handle of a fan. If she wore weapons they were kept beneath her clothing, as Roku could see no trace of a pouch containing any projectiles similar to what he himself wore. Against the strong breeze that blew against the Hokage Monument she held the cloth that acted as a makeshift hood. Taking one final appraisal of the ornate braids and tangles in the hair that he could see, a pinkish-purple color he would hesitantly label as lilac or a muted violet, the gaunt redhead decided it was now or never.

Carefully Rokumaru released the technique that held his form within the sand, ripples of his chakra spreading outward as the constant stream fueling the jutsu was cut off, appearing atop the mound of sand with only the faint sounds of displaced air to announce his sudden presence. Immediately after regaining his human form, recovering full awareness over his senses and now detecting a strange floral scent that seemed to waft from the woman overlooking the village, Rokumaru shifted into a state of focused multitasking as knew he had less than a few seconds to make this prank as efficient as possible.

The frail redhead inhaled deeply and quickly, flooding the oxygen within his lungs with weak Fūton chakra in preparation for a technique, while at the same time moving his right hand forward in a grasping motion towards his victim. Like a third limb the sand he had been hidden within shot towards the stranger, grinding against the smooth stone surface they stood upon as it moved, circling the girl’s legs within two seconds of the boy having appeared. Like a lasso the sand connected to form a loop and tightened; if she could not instantly raise her legs or jump from just a few seconds of warning alone the loop would coil around her ankles and tighten. As the loop would tighten to trap her legs together and restrict her movement Rokumaru would simultaneously expell the compressed, chakra-fueled air within his lungs in a strong gust of Nagare.

In his mind the redhead could picture the end result of his combined actions: the Stream he created, one of the few elemental jutsu Roku knew that required no handseals, would hopefully push the woman off balance or off her feet entirely towards the sheer drop of the cliffside that she faced. The Tendril of sand would, if she did not escape the construct and get blown off the cliff entirely, anchor her to the boy suspending the long ochre rope in midair and leave her dangling against the stone face of the First Hokage.

The prospect of her tanking the weak Fūton jutsu completely unhindered and himself being left on the cliff with an upset kunoichi with an incriminating coil of sand wrapped around her ankles was a very unpleasant one, but rather unlikely given the assumption he had made towards her.

Chakra - 255/300:
Stream (-10):
Name: Wind Release: Stream (Fūton: Nagare ~ 風遁・流れ)
Canon/Custom: Canon
Rank: D
Type: Supplementary
Element: Fūton
Range: 10 metres
Specialty: Ninjutsu
Duration: 1 post
Cooldown: 3 posts
Description: A movement technique with no offensive application, this technique is designed to allow a shinobi to maneuver mid-air. The shinobi exhales a powerful, concentrated stream of wind from their mouth. This burst of wind has enough force to accelerate the user's movement mid-air (in the opposite direction of where the stream is directed) or allow them them to rapidly change the direction they're going in by temporarily giving them a short burst of speed at 5 m/s. Beyond this, however, it has several unintended effects. The stream has enough force to knock basic, non-chakra projectiles aside, as well as to make someone hit by it stagger back 2 meters with no additional damage, assuming the caster is 5 metres or less away from the person being hit.
Sand Control (-5):
Name: Sand Release: Sand Control
Canon/Custom: Custom
Rank: D-S
Type: Supplementary
Element: Sand
Range: up to 40m
Specialty: Ninjutsu
Duration: Maintainable
Cooldown: None
Description: This technique allows the user to freely manipulate sand within a certain radius around themselves, simply by willing it to happen. The range and amount of sand the user can manipulate varies depending on the level of the jutsu used. Regardless of the rank used, however, the sand speed stays constant, at 10 metres a second.

This technique has no offensive properties [For example the sand cannot be used to form sharp edges that would hurt on contact, nor to crush someone] and exists solely to allow the user to reposition their sand.

Amount manipulatable, range and Chakra cost:

  • D-Rank: 5 m3 of loose sand within 5 metres of the user. Costs 5 chakra.
  • C-Rank: 10 m3 of loose sand within 10 metres of the user. Costs 5 chakra.
  • B-Rank: 15 m3 of loose sand within 15 metres of the user. Costs 10 chakra.
  • A-Rank: 20 m3 of loose sand within 25 metres of the user. Costs 10 chakra.
  • S-Rank: 25 m3 of loose sand within 40 metres of the user. Costs 15 chakra.

Note: this can be changed each post. For example If the user is controlling 15 metres of sand it costs 10 chakra, but if they relinquish 5 meters in the next round, it will only cost 5 chakra.
Sand Tendril (-15):
Name: Sand Release: Sand Tendril
Canon/Custom: Custom
Rank: C
Type: Offensive/Supplementary
Element: Sabaton
Range: 15m
Specialty: Ninjutsu
Duration: 1-2 posts
Cooldown: 6 posts
Description: Channeling chakra into the sand under an opponents feet, the user creates a long tendril of sand that can wrap around one or both of their legs. Upon successfully leashing to the opponent the tendril can hold them in place, preventing them from moving, as well as allows further sand jutsu to be used from the tendril in the next post. It can be broken by someone of C-3 or higher Strength, 1 C-Ranked or 2 D-Ranked jutsu. Any Katon technique will turn the tendril to glass, making it brittle and very easy to break.

1401 | 2708


____

Ninjutsu: S-Rank | Kugutsu: B-Rank
Doton: B-Rank |  Fūton: A-Rank | Suiton: B-Rank |
Sabaton: B-Rank
-Mission Count-
D-5|C-12|B-1|A-0|S-0

4 Re: How Paths Can Wander [Private] on Thu Dec 13, 2018 8:26 pm

Taeru

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Her grip would tighten upon the fabric of the makeshift hood just a touch more as the wind seemed to pick up at such an altitude. Yet, having spent many years within Tsuchi no Kuni she had become accustomed to both the height of places and the changes in wind rates that accompanied such. An odd place to find comfort as to which she hadn't realized that she had needed, was it a longing to simply be at home? Or was it something different... something more?  

The knot in her chest would tighten enough for her left hand to raise, to grip at the area. Grasping not only the clothing but a small portion of the flesh for a moment. Yet even as they weight sat heavily upon her shoulders her senses would not waver to her duty. Her gaze would continue about the area. In ways the sight of Konohagakure no Sato could be called beautiful, so very modern in all of its glory. Its fast-flowing electrical lights, its tall stong buildings but more so the railway. Of which she herself had yet to ride within a carriage yet had taken the chance to ride atop it. She would soak in all of the information the sights, sounds, and scents could. Then further upon to the imprints of chakra that littered the village. Following trails picking out the most used routes and seeking out the strongest then the weakest signatures committing all to the depths of her memory for later use. As was her duty in this land was it not? To keep those of her village safe and to bring back as much information as possible.  

Yet the short usual sound and change in the air, easily missed if you were not alert, would signal activity behind her. She would take a couple of, what would easily seem, absent-minded steps back away from the edge and closer to the male, as though the winds might topple her. Maybe the chakra signature she had picked up upon had decided to move on? At least that is what would naturally come to mind would it not? Her gaze would flicker to her feet, as though to watch a shadow move to confirm such a flash of thought only to be met with the sight of grains of sand dancing along itself shifting into formation as It curled about around her stance, yet keeping her head upwards as though she noted little to nothing of the activities behind her person. Her left leg would rise just as the lasso of sand clutched, taking her right ankle in its grip. Chakra would flood into her legs and the soles of her feet and her hands as she twisted her body in an awkwardly quick motion. Her body would twist, following her sweeping foot, as though to clear some space and to face an oncoming attack, the chakra within her legs and the soles of her feet and her palms ready to aid in balance, however, if the individual did not shift away her foot would connect with his wrist, the touch not harsh but sticking as the supernatural walking practice did its work, her foot would guide the male's hand to the ground with her foot atop it yet not fully weighted. If the connection was made it would send the male's jutsu off of course and with such her right hand would snap towards the boys left wrist yet simply taking what would seem to be a light grip, again the chakra sticking them in place before curling her fingers around to draw his hand upwards to their arms-length capacity. Her touch, even through the clothing and her gloves would be unusually cold, her flesh reminiscent in temperature of a corpse. Again if her movements were not averted of confronted her form would lower to lean in, close enough that her chest would press to his back, the art of enclosing the space to cause discomfort as words uttered almost silently from her lips in a sort of mutter, “Mein Domine, tak atts da’oel?” the accent thick in the roll of her native tongue, the strength of her voice unusual and almost alluring, like the D cord of a violin. At one time not at all long before the seemingly endless months in which she had been held within the Kaze no Kuni, she had waited in anticipation to see such kekkei Genkai and kekki tota that the lands beyond Tsuchi no Kuni. And now to see the art form and use of sand, like the great Kazakage Gaara from the legends her mother and father had told in her youth. Once she had found a juvenile sense of pleasure at seeing such yet the sight of the sand only drew forth cursed memories for which, if her stomach were weaker, could have churned the small contents of her stomach.  

Drawing her face closer as she held the male in place she would keep her chin just a brush away from his shoulder, enough for her breath to ghost along the flesh of his jaw as she spoke, this time for him to hear clearly yet still keeping her voice a mere whisper, “Child of the sand … didn’t your guardians ever teach you that its bad manners to sneak upon a defenseless lady?” From the rich tones of her voice as it had been but a moment ago with her murmer would come a dull and somewhat monotonous drawl as she articulated her words as her thick accent remained, leaving it safe to say that her mother tongue suited her far more than the common tongue. Her head would incline just a touch, enough to face him, setting her gaze upon him as she waited for his answer or retaliation to their predicament. During which she would inhale slowly and deeply to fill her lungs with his scent, one of many she would commit to memory as she did all the information that crossed her path.  

If he did counter before a connection could be made her form would drop lower to the ground within a crouch to weather the jutsu the male used as she readied to flush her form with enough chakra for at least one c rank and one d rank jutsu’s, her piercing gaze set upon him.






365/400:
Name: ANBU Sensory Range (Chikakya: ANBU ~ 知覚野・暗部) - Maintained.



Name: Supernatural Walking Practice (Shūgyō'shikachō ~ 修業歩然超)
Canon/Custom: Canon.
Rank: E.
Type: Supplementary.
Element: None.
Range: Self.
Specialty: Taijutsu (Chakra Flow).
Duration: -5 chakra every 3 posts (every 2 posts if using on water).
Cooldown: None.
Description: Supernatural Walking Practice is a basic ninja technique. It involves using chakra flow to channel chakra to one's hands or feet, allowing him/her to walk on, or cling to, surfaces that normally do not allow it. This includes, but is not limited to, walls/ceilings, trees, and even water. Should the flow of chakra stop for any reason, the user will immediately fall off of the surface they are walking on, or plunge underwater.


Word count:1069.
Total word count: 2312.


____

Taeru's Theme.
Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo
~Oderint Dum Metuant~
Completed Missions: D-4 C-4 B-6 A-2 S-0

5 Re: How Paths Can Wander [Private] on Fri Dec 14, 2018 5:14 pm

Rokumaru

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Chuunin
With her attention focused solely on the landscape of forest and village below, something that enthused the mischievous redhead emerging from the out of place sand a few feet away, it seemed his plan was going to be executed flawlessly. In the back of his mind where it had been herded and segregated from the more malicious parts of his ego, caution nagged at Rokumaru to cease this tomfoolery; not only was this a horrible first impression to make on such an easily preyed-upon civilian or low-ranked kunoichi, there were countless unforeseen consequences that could result from this ‘harmless’ prank. She could do something to break his concentration sending her plummeting to the streets below, or a patrolling Leaf could assume he was attacking her for real and snuff his light out in her defense. But, using the well-worn excuse that he needed some levity and excitement to distract from the swirl of negative emotions filling his head, Roku let the thought of stopping slip away.

The woman took a few slow steps away from the edge of the cliffs, the wind blowing tresses of her hair in tangles around the hood she wore that obscured her peripheral vision. She now stood just feet away from where the frail male did, close enough he could take one step and reach out to touch her. But her distance from the cliffside didn’t matter in the face of Nagare and a tug from his Tendril. So long as he got the stranger off balance enough that he could pull her feet out from beneath her and yank her over the cliff, he would not worry. Breathing in and inflating his lungs to their maximum capacity until his ribs pressed against his skin noticeably Rokumaru forced his sand to snake out across the stone. Exhaling the Fūton-laced breath and tightening the coil of sand encircling her feet, Rokumaru made his move.

While breathing out the basic Wind jutsu, eyes squinting to keep his focus on the stranger, the redhead did not expect the girl to lift her leg suddenly leaving the sand Tendril to wrap around her stationary right ankle, leaving her legs unwrapped and able to move about freely much to his shock and horror. Any hopes that her awkward stance would allow the Wind technique he released to push her over were crushed when he saw the strong gust do nothing but blow her hair and clothing back, remaining upright. It was at this moment Rokumaru recovered from his surprise enough to recognize the situation he had created for himself, having wildly underestimated the perceptiveness of the woman, but a kick to his outstretched hand halted any thoughts of retaliation that had been trying to form.

Having not expected any resistance to his assault and having been caught in his normal comfortable stance with his feet shoulder-length apart, Rokumaru barely saw the motion of the leg she had lifted twisting around to smash her foot into his thin wrist and could not move in time to avoid it. The blow was painful enough, a surprising amount of strength in the woman’s slender limbs that was beginning to reveal just how much he had underestimated her, but the redhead could barely even grunt to acknowledge the pain before he was being pulled off balance towards the smooth stone ground. This entire time he had been blowing chakra-enhanced wind from his lungs, only barely catching her in the stream that she weathered effortlessly; with no air in his lungs and only one hand free to catch himself, the other stuck to her foot like it had been covered with adhesive, he could hardly stop from crashing into the hard stone. Her hand shot out to grab his free hand that had been stretching out to halt his fall, grasping his wrist and pulling the limb up until it stretched out completely above his body. In the end Roku was forced to bend his legs and drive his left knee into the ground to keep upright.

The whole incident happened within seconds of the boy’s attack being made, so quickly that Rokumaru was on his knees before the foreign woman with her foot atop his hand and the other arm stretched almost painfully in the air by the time his mind had caught up with his body. Taking his first breath since releasing the Stream jutsu, Rokumaru inhaled the sickly-sweet floral scent that now permeated the air around them. The whole movement had pulled Rokumaru just slightly to her side and the woman now stood behind him, and he twisted his neck to try to look at her in the hopes she’d reconsider lobbing him off the Hokage Monument.

Looking up at the stranger with a fearful expression, expecting to be thrown over the woman’s shoulder off the cliff as anyone would do if they had restrained someone who appeared to be trying to do the very same to them, he saw that the hood she wore stretched down over the left half of her face, leaving the right half uncovered where a vibrant yellow eye stared down at him. Her hair was unnaturally pale, the white locks braided tightly together beneath the makeshift hood. The hand restraining his arm was cold, chilling his skin and sending goosebumps down the thin limb. His hesitant attempts to pull his hand from beneath her foot were unsuccessful as her shoe seemed to cling to his skin like glue. Recognizing it as the Supernatural Walking technique taught to all Academy students, an E-Rank technique that had completely nullified the risk of her losing balance as she must have stuck to the cliff using the jutsu, Rokumaru looked towards the ground before him in embarrassment while awaiting the stranger’s judgement.

The short hairs on his neck stood on end when he felt the woman lean herself into his back, the cold aura of her unusually low body-temperature doing very little to distract from the feeling of her slim, soft figure against his warm skin. In a language he had never heard, in a thick accent carried by an almost melodic and enticing voice, the kunoichi spoke a phrase that had the voice inflections accompanying a question. She knew he didn’t understand her and could not answer, and that seemed to be the point; probably mocking him for that admittedly pathetic attempt to get the drop on her. Rokumaru, in the meantime, had realized this was the first human touch he had felt in months since the fall of the village, and was doing his best to distract himself from that depressing and currently unhelpful fact. Looking around for the sand he had been using to make the Tendril, his heart dropped upon noticing most of it was sliding off the cliff after losing control over it from being kicked.

She leaned in closer until he could feel soft cool breathes across his skin and spoke again, this time in the common language but still carrying an exotic foreign lilt in her voice. Speaking with an even, monotonous tone like she was scolding a child the woman addressed him as a ‘child of the sand’, admonishing him for so rudely sneaking up on what she called a ‘defenseless lady’. Surprised that she was choosing to talk first rather than disposing of him Rokumaru turned his head slightly to look at her, aware of the close distance between them and doing his absolute hardest to ignore that facet of the situation he had caught himself in. The stranger waited for his response, idly breathing in the aroma of earthy sand that had to be unpleasant to a foreigner, and he hoped she did not notice the cold sweat that had started to trickle down his neck from an uncommon mix of feelings centered at the pit of his stomach; the strange feminine scent of her was overpowering the ambient scents of the forest and village below, making his head buzz with distraction.

Looking back at the hard stone floor, feeling the throbbing in his knees from crashing into the ground begin to fade, the redhead recovered some of the confidence that had gotten him into this whole mess in the first place. “Defenseless?”, he repeated upon replaying her words in his head, amused and relieved that she was treating the situation as the annoyance it was rather than a murder attempt that had been foiled. Recognizing the blatant falsehood as intended humor, he felt good enough about his chances of surviving that he had to grin and joke right back. “If you were defenseless I’d be dangling you over the edge of this cliff right now,” he admitted in his silvery tone. While the words were admitting that he had malicious intentions towards her, they also pointed out that she was not exactly a helpless maiden.

Roku again looked towards the woman hovering above his shoulder, taking his chance to take back some control over this exchange while he had the chance to speak. Smiling sheepishly, hoping she would forgive his antics, he asked, “Could we maybe forget this whole thing happened and start over?” He would pull his arms away from where she had them trapped lightly in the hopes she would free him, abandoning the attempt if she decided he was fine where he was in her clutches like this. “My name is Sabaku Rokumaru. I’m from Suna.” Hoping she would introduce herself in turn, he asked, “And you are?

1601 | 4309


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Ninjutsu: S-Rank | Kugutsu: B-Rank
Doton: B-Rank |  Fūton: A-Rank | Suiton: B-Rank |
Sabaton: B-Rank
-Mission Count-
D-5|C-12|B-1|A-0|S-0

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