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Post by Ryuusei on Apr 19, 2012 1:36:22 GMT -5
The rugged terrain beat against his legs as he steered through the stone and gravel that encompassed his entire position. He led himself forward making nothing short of his favorite training, feel the most comfortable. Going up mountain ranges was fun, his training always encompassed running up and down mountains in order to gain stamina, and leg strength to improve in his overall condition. Taking his time with every step, a smile on his face with each one. Sweat bead down his face crossing his arms as he stopped for a moment taking a look towards the sun-rise.
It was a beautiful sight to him. The waves of radiating heat had came through his skin forcing down his understanding of what could be considered the best sight in the world. A beautiful rising sun had made everything clear to him. It was something he and his father enjoyed... something that he knew would never come once more after he had made the realization of death arising from his fathers own fate. It was his fought... and he considered himself to blame for that mistake so many years ago.
A small frown appeared on his face treading in the bit of sorrow he felt that day. The kasa on top of his head being pushed downward by his thumb and index finger stopping what would become his greatest regret. If he had considered or remembered the past due to what had happened then, he would be disgracing his fathers memory. He had to push forth towards the future, the future of this style that his father created. That's what would honor him, making the Matchless Fist truly matchless. Considering all of this, he couldn't doubt himself. That long training wasn't for anything more than improving not only himself but to improve the aspects of the Matchless Fist that were wrinkles, such as Shuuchuu.
Trudging forward through the jagged rocks made him nothing short of nostalgic once again of those times. Those times that allowed him to be free. The days when he climbed trees, dashed up walls to improve his coordination and leg power, making his way through a dense forest filled with violent beasts and enemies that wanted to kill him. To leave him as an empty husk... My mother was someone who brought this wild side out... commanding and ruthless in her ways of training, but it helped. It built my body to its peak, allowed me to reach new tiers and create new techniques from repetition. A punch with unbridled power, a kick with unmatched strength, and a skill that took your senses to the limits. These techniques were important.
He stopped for a moment once again. A smile appeared on his face as he looked up the mountain. Why was he just walking? This was an excellent time for training or so he had thought at this moment. His blood began to boil from all this thinking about it. Clenching both his fists, tightening the muscles in his arms and legs. He would begin. A simple running start turned into an advancing dash. Sprinting across the island as his feet took him forward with great speed. His muscles allowed him to climb the steep parts, having an exciting look in his eye. Loving the feeling of wind within his hair, taking nothing but the most eager approach towards this situation. He would keep running, until he reached the top. His necklace dangling across his chest as it pushed upward into the air from the push and shove of this intense run came into motion.
Only a few minutes had passed from this run. A wind sprint of sorts as he pressed both his hands to his knees collecting air into his lungs as he hit his fist against his chest smiling. He stretched his arms backwards pulling his arms into the air with a wide smile watching the high sunny day. It was breathtaking. The morning rise of the sun made him happy of such a thing, happy that he was alive to witness this beautiful uprising of the great golden ball of energy. The heat rays and light engulfed him.
This was what he wanted. To become this, a man that loves to live, to improve, to evolve through any situation. And that was what a Matchless Fist user was. Someone who grew not only in battle, but in life. Crossing his arms, he would only stare at the sunset. His eyes looking not only into its embrace, but looking towards the future.
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Makoto Kiyoshi
Kumogakure
This will be a hard lesson for you.
Posts: 51
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Post by Makoto Kiyoshi on Apr 19, 2012 3:15:19 GMT -5
If there was one thing that Makoto liked it was order. Something planned, set, and simple to follow. It allowed for focus and devotion, which lead to tasks being completed. Which is what lead Makoto to where he was. A set time to wake up, morning hygiene, a filling breakfast, a warm up exercise, and then meditation. Then meditation led to the thoughts of other things to reach calm. All structured, set and planned. One could say it was Kichiri Kachiri...and they'd be wrong. Despite the illusion of perfection structure gave, it was only precise. It didn't allow for mistakes. There was neither nothing more nor nothing less, only what was and is. If the boundaries were crossed there was no way to adapt to them because it hadn't been accounted for.
So while Makoto liked the idea of structure for what it seemed to symbolize, he chose not lock himself within it. Which was why he wasn't meditating. Instead, he merely sat under the stars relaxed and awaiting a sun that was bound to rise. With his sword laid across his lap he waited and watched. The man watched the bright lights that danced within a blanket of darkness. He watched as those same lights fled from his gaze as a ball of flame peek out over the horizon. He was content as his sight beheld the soft orange drifting across rocky, uneven ground. Then a deep breath escaped the ninja as the sky lit up with blue radiance. Makoto basked in the beautifully timed order.
And yet, his eyes also took in the sheer beauty of chaos. Colors bled, mixed, and mingled amongst the clouds in a never ending dance. Red, purple, orange, and a multitude of other colors. "See everything in its entirety, effortlessly. That is what it means to truly "see"." Words of wisdom, he'd come to understand said by his first sensei. So if there was one thing that Makoto liked as much as order it was chaos. It's sheer beauty and passion. It allow what order didn't. Spontaneous action. Adaptation. Freedom.
Order and chaos, two sides of the same coin. Never one without the order lest things become stagnate and boring. Though often found in various balances, they kept each other unique. This is why when a slight vibration from the earth gave way to an unplanned even, Makoto was surprised. Not an unpleasant surprise, merely an interested surprise. A person was a rare occurrence. This was one of the more untraveled ranges for civilians and an underused one for ninja. It's lack of interest is what led Makoto to claim the peaceful area as his own merely for the chance to loose himself in his thoughts.
Letting down the hood of his cloak, Makoto let the morning breeze caress his face. A gentle warmth danced through his hair and ruffled the cloak around him as it blew away the last lingerings of the night's cold. Kichiri Kachiri was such a difficult concept to define, forever out of reach. It even contradicted itself on occasion. However, it kept his focused enough to live in the present, learn from the past, and look forward to the future with little fear. There was a balance in everything and in everything was a balance, and though not perfect or precise it was one and both at the same time.
Calmly, he rose from his position. He had seen what he wanted and now it was time to make his way back. Normally Makoto would train around this time, but the return path would allow him to cross by this unknown variable. It was different, new, and it caught his attention so why not humor the situation? For a while there was nothing noteworthy; same rocks, same path, and the same mountains in the distance. Then he found it, the unknown variable. A man he'd never been chanced with crossing paths with. Just what results could be determined when this variable was introduced into the equation that was Makoto's life?
Makoto was about to find out as he glided ever closer. Face bored and posture relaxed, he spoke up, "Curious time to be up and about, rather early by most standards." Though bland and slightly monotone, there was a hint of interest in Makoto's voice.
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Post by Ryuusei on Apr 21, 2012 3:44:17 GMT -5
It was an interesting world that he thought about in the recesses of his mind. It was new to him to have such a great feeling of opportunity relying on what he took on through head-strong combat and training. He would keep himself read to tackle any situation that opposed him. And when the need arises use his abilities to full effect in the intensity of the burning battles ahead. Such a young spirit, he had an unbridled will capable of showing that the true genius was the one who knew that training was always better than natural talent. He had no natural talent really, everything he got he had from those training days.
As more and more of the sun showed itself from the tweeting birds in the distance, a small yet intense grimace came from his lips. It seemed as though something began to stir in him, a sixth sense that had developed showed him the level of danger that he needed to understand around him. Or maybe it wasn't so much a lust but the steps, the steps of a natural murderer who had nothing but skills towards the destruction of the existence of life. The thing that brought nothing but pain in this world through the struggles of the moral trying to defeat the immoral it came to the conclusion that nothing would seem fair in their clutches. The ones called "shinobi" the true paths of destruction through this grand world, taking lives and killing innocence without second thought.
As the sensation came closer to him, he heard those steps once more. The steps different from a normal human developed from the special techniques shinobi gained from becoming adept at skillful sneaking and silent destruction. Anything could be killed in the expansion of a battle between shinobi, including the death of so many unneeded circumstances. In reality it made him angry not only from this standpoint but because of what had happened during his younger days. He quietly turned his head to those cold and calm eyes, that made faces towards him. His eyes were the same in this situation. That was for a moment anyway, it didn't seem to do him harm towards anything so why would he start something when he could potentially avoid such a practice.
Every single breath taken during this time was one of calm in Ryuusei's mind. He couldn't consider himself anything more than human, of course with the benefits of his training he was something past that. But he could still die just as easily from mistakes, disadvantages, carelessness. No one was a god in this world, and their was no such thing either. Their was always someone who wanted to defy that, usually those people were shinobi. From the rumors he heard this was only the truth. Destined to the destruction of this entire world, shinobi only bring darkness. His fist clenched a bit...
"Yeah, I was out training for a bit so I could get the blood pumping for my traveling today! Such a beautiful morning right? Couldn't ask for a better one!"
He started to stretch both his arms outward twisting his torso left and right in order to make the illusion of company and understanding. He knew that this was the person that he considered his worse enemy in all regards to being a martial artist and being a shinobi. One was an honored and dignified profession, the other was one of potential treachery and destruction of morals and ideals. He was interested in the man's abilities. He hadn't actually taken on a shinobi in combat since that day, and that wasn't really a battle from his point. It was only a suicide trip...
"Let's cut the chitchat about all of this stuff, and get to the point?"
The more he talked to this shinobi, knowing that underneath all of this seeming normalcy lied a killer. His blood began to boil a bit, the shine of his bo-staff coming through from the gleam of the sun as he started to chuckle a bit. A moment to ponder as he began to swing his weapon on his fingertips displaying an adroit sense of agility from index to pinky turning his staff towards his shoulders placing it on top of them smiling.
"So anyway, I'd like to spar with you since it seems you have your own unique skills."
Specifically him being a shinobi of course. He had an arsenal perhaps within all these creases of his body.
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Makoto Kiyoshi
Kumogakure
This will be a hard lesson for you.
Posts: 51
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Post by Makoto Kiyoshi on Apr 21, 2012 12:34:08 GMT -5
At first, Makoto would have thought to come across a wild animal. Though his eyes told him that the form was one of man, or perhaps a boy by some standards, the general air this traveler gave off was different. The feel was similar to that of a wild beast from the mountains. Despite the childish face, his entire being screamed 'survival' in defiance. Trained muscle, more focused in keeping what was needed and chose to shed itself of excess bulk. Intense eyes that shone like a funeral pyre. Shaggy hair gave the idea of 'animal' merit, more like wild matted fur than human kind.
Ordered chaos. How interesting such a man was to Makoto's sight. Yet, he didn't feel like a ninja. The man was too, what was the word...unpolished perhaps, to carry the air of shinobi. He must have been something else entirely. However, whatever he may have called himself, Makoto could tell that there was something missing. Something lacking in presence whether of body or mind. It was like staring at a form without substance. Incomplete. Then again, Makoto may have simply been seeing to much. The jounin could merely be expecting more than what was there. To see everything sometimes you saw what you wanted and Makoto liked to see endless possibilities.
Makoto looked upon the traveler like a carpenter would look upon newly delivered wood. The shinobi saw something stale, flat, and lackluster. Could he turn him into something more complete? Something well rounded and polished. Odd that this boy regarded Makoto like one regarded an enemy on the battlefield. It made one wonder if Makoto may have indirectly or directly caused misfortune for the boy's life. Makoto wouldn't even be able to deny it as a possibility either, things happened on missions. Nothing was perfect and when it was it was an obvious trap.
A young man was loud, zealous. Training for mere travel? Just how much physical effort would he spend toward that destination? Then Makoto was able to place him. The wild nature, training for travel, and physique fit for survival. The young man was a martial artist. A spirited fighter that dedicated himself to mastering a specific style of combat not unlike the realms of a taijutsu specialist. However, they rarely supplemented their technique with chakra and if they did it was only rudimentary in use. Basic concepts applied for a specific purpose. However, if this impatience was anything to go by then he was still far from the mastery of his art.
"How interesting indeed," Makoto couldn't help but note to himself. The possibilities this new specimen offered seemed like a fun project to take up his time. Makoto reached back to pull the hood of his cloak back over his head as he mulled over the thought. The sun was beginning to hit its full brightness in the corners of his eyes. The birds began chattering in excitement as well. Did those creatures expect this to dissolve into a spar so quickly?
"Unique?" A curious hum escaped his lips as he took in the unassuming staff weapon. "You expect quite a bit from me, don't you? I could be a simple wanderer like yourself." Makoto was curious. How badly did this young man wish to prove himself? The shinobi could fight with him, but Makoto would rather not be accused of attacking a random passerby. Just because this was an underused training ground didn't mean it was forgotten. Still, this man must have some considerable skill to outright challenge a ninja of unknown rank. Or he was rather stupid.
Makoto stood there, wondering if he'd push the chance at a spar. Perhaps the jounin would humor him anyway. However, not before seeing how determined he was. Specimens that couldn't handle or keep up with experiments would only end up wasting time and resources. Makoto's hands sought out the sleeves of his cloak, hiding his hands from view, as he spoke up once more. "What do you have to gain from a spar against someone with "unique skills" as you put it?"
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Post by Ryuusei on Apr 21, 2012 16:44:56 GMT -5
The rules of engagement needed to fit with the aspect of what needed to be done, in this case he was proposing a one-on-one with a stranger he had not known or really considered as one. He could of been completely wrong in his statements and would have to face the consequence that merit them with open arms. But this felt different, as soon as he saw the air of this man, he knew nothing more than him being the opposition towards what would be a fruitful venture. Learning and mastering the skills of combat and walking the path of the lone warrior was something he actually did rather well. Leaving no peril unchecked and no challenge unproven. This would be his chance to reprimand himself from that last battle all those years ago.
He pressed the weapon so closely towards his shoulder that it began to slip off only a bit. He took his eyes towards the males eyes who seemed to be trying to shadow his existence as being one of the beings from beneath the darkness. The one thing that Ryuusei did know was that he definitely wasn't some ordinary individual. Of course, Ryuusei wasn't either and that made everything that much sweeter to ask. He placed his thumb and index finger to his chin as he swerved his weapon.
"Well if you aren't a shinobi... then what are you because you certainly aren't a normal man... maybe it's the way you move."
There were always tells when someone was skilled in something, for instance the way you move would be the tell that you were a skilled being at physical and stealth actions. If your feet had calloused and rough you did something that focused on your legs, if your arms were ripped cut you did something that focused on your arms. If you had a certain smell or look about you, it was something about your persona that made you seem "tough". This man had the walk down, even though he hid so well his other forms and made them that less clear. But things like how you walked they became second nature when you were a shinobi. And the way you moved could be called your ultimate tell as a combatant towards another.
"I want to understand the abilities of those unique individuals, to see where my abilities stack towards them... to see if the skills they have can be stacked against what I have."
In a pause, he watched the man for a long moment in recollection of what he said, and even though what he said could be defined as a "test". Something every true combatant wanted was to test their skills against the skills of those that had the ability to defend themselves on an equal level. It was called "placing your limits forth". Besides this, Ryuusei would finally maneuver his bo-staff in a spinning rotation as he placed it to his right arm. His eyes would change from this point aiming his staff to the man he had called out through this challenge. His aura brimming with the intent to do battle, a sparring of some sort.
"You need not worry, I don't want your life, I just want to judge my own skills even if it costs my own..."
He followed the path of least death, the path that set him apart from any heartless demonic presence was one of the intense ambition of being strong without the need to destroy the lives of others. He was taught that the lives of others was important, that death need not be a needless dwindling aftereffect towards the soul. That when it came to lethality, you should choose to never destroy the lives you see before you unless it is a necessary evil. It was burrowed in his mind after all. With the depths of his shining staff the sun would rise more and more, this time a great deal seen from over the horizon towards its body, Showing that this conversation had been going for a few minutes.
Ryuusei would not attack his opponent until he allowed himself his weapon readied. This was another code of chivalry, to understand that in combat between two warriors a moral aspect of ones own honor was to be considered. With that, all he could do was stand poised and ready for combat.
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Makoto Kiyoshi
Kumogakure
This will be a hard lesson for you.
Posts: 51
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Post by Makoto Kiyoshi on Apr 21, 2012 19:24:31 GMT -5
A classic quote from one man or another whom had used the time of his life seeking wisdom, is that "a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step". Whether this person had been ninja, samurai, martial artist, or something else entirely did matter only that it was a good point in Makoto's mind. One step was all it took to lead another down a path for better or worse. Actions and consequences some controlled while others manipulated without consent had impacts not even the best strategist could see and plan for perfectly. One always had to attribute some happenings to random chance.
That did not stop Makoto's curiosity from dwelling on just what had happened to this young man to send him down the path he was walking. Not a ninja, but skilled nonetheless. Lacking key pieces to make him complete, but already having gained some that took time and dedication. All and all, Makoto respected that. The first step did, after all, take - or rather required - something even more exceptional: courage. Having a destination, a purpose, a goal was all meaningless if one couldn't follow through. Acknowledging that there will be obstacles and still following trudging forward. It was something so easy and so complex that it could make the difference in becoming and remaining a ninja.
This young man had gained that. Whether trust into his current path or having chosen it willfully, he continued. Who was Makoto to deny his own experimentation? Even as a shinobi, he could only see the outcome as satisfactory. A complex equation of shinobi against martial artists. Unknown variables in specialties, strengths, and weaknesses. Terrain and climate currently set, but by no means immune to sudden change. "Now,how to proceed?" Makoto wondered before the young man's voice began to answer him.
"Hrm...I never said I wasn't, does it make a difference?" the jounin mused. "I am merely myself am I not?" Shinobi. Samurai. Martial artist. Man. All titles. Should one really be just by them? One would make assumptions based upon those titles. However, while they did hold meaning, they didn't set Makoto into an order. Makoto was himself, nothing more and nothing less. He would like to think that he was the chaos to his Shinobi's order.
Though further thought led to the question, "Could I even be considered a man any more?" Makoto had done terrible things during his life. Things other people wouldn't do for reasons from not having the gall to their morals. Makoto shoved those aside for exactly that reason. If another couldn't bring themselves to act even if it would cost them terribly, Makoto had to. Part of him shied away from this demon while the other part took pride in having it. Doing those things prevented others from destroying themselves to perform them. He had saved them from a road they couldn't handle and he'd suffer their remarks, stares, and judgment if he could save someone that pain.
Ever so slowly, Makoto shifted into his ninja persona. Silencing emotions, devouring pride, and crushing morals as he did so. In Makoto's place became a void. Empty and full, at peace and tortured. With the shadow cast upon his features it may have looked frightening. Let the boy judge him, he chose this path and he would follow it through until the end. Let the young man see what would happen should a step be taken that one wasn't ready for. Let him understand. The strangest things was that Makoto's aura, if one could call it that did not fluctuate or leak the intent to kill. In instead disappeared. It became empty. A void so strong it could have swallowed the sunlight around him even as the orb of heat warmed the entire world.
"I am not worried. I can see your passion and it feels rude of me to just turn you away," Makoto spoke in monotone. He wanted to teach this young man, help him on the path he'd chosen. Makoto willed for the boy to look with more than his eyes. "Perhaps I can show you how to see everything in its entirety, effortlessly. That is what it means to truly "see"." The jounin hoped the boy would take those words with him if nothing else. Words of wisdom that helped Makoto in the past. Focus your strengths, accept your weaknesses, and know your limits.
The shinobi's stance didn't chance. His hands were still within his sleeves. The hood stayed on his head, casting a shadow over his face. "Name the terms and attack when you feel ready." "Safety off. Target locked. Trail area and conditions within set. Hypothesis of strengths between each variable determined and ready for update. Awaiting rules, objectives, and goal...Starting experiment."
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Post by Ryuusei on Apr 21, 2012 21:07:12 GMT -5
A shift in the wind's had arisen into the air. A slow to form aura of intense cold coming off of his body, that cold being something more of a conclusion of not only his ability to show that he was something to be feared but someone that shouldn't be trifled with meeting that things couldn't be anticipated nor could they be exploited unless seen first hand. To know anything is to learn it from improvement or mistakes, and this was something that couldn't be stopped by means of a normal gesture. This would be a full fledged battle.
He seemed to be philosophical to a special point. Ryuusei understood his words quite well and carefully, they depicted true and accurate points towards what needed to be said towards someone as young as him, who had no real ways of dealing with other people than what he was. Someone eager to learn the ways of the world and yet still within the pond of what could be considered the largest one. He was only a fish, or maybe just a larvae of an egg in this pond. But as anything in this world he would grow into something larger.
The growth of the expunged aura set off his own aura. His was one of burning passion something that came from him having those heated existences in the world that was called, "Hard Knocks". A world where living meant surviving through the thick of training and depicting that not only should you fight for what you believed was correct, that you should prove your worth by your actions and not your words. As this man had also considered, whether anything less than dirt or anything above god, we were all who we were and by this he meant Ryuusei and himself. The excitement spiked more and more of his aura as the two different yet equal parts of their world had came into a bursting energy. The psychological difference between the burning embers and the frozen snow.
All the instances of sight through the eyes of two fighters was upon something more or less the anticipation of the world. What "sight" was needed was the sight of humility. One sight which Ryuusei had already discovered through his betrayal of his fathers life through placing his own in danger. Even with his father's own god-like skill, he was still incapable of avoiding death, he wasn't a god he had still been a man with the body of the "strong". Something Ryuusei wanted to change by becoming something superior, evolving to a man that used his martial arts for growth, justice, and combat. To become something more than himself.
"There are no need for many rules in a battle, whether you use trickery or you fight honorably you decide, and fight at full strength or you won't be getting much out of the fight either, shinobi."
Ryuusei's form was stationed atop the hill, at which he had the advantage of height over his opposition. He knew he couldn't trust what his eyes would see and needed to trust not only his instincts but his martial arts training and repetitive ensemble otherwise this fight would be a defeat in an instant. A sweat drop appearing from over his forehead as the sun's beam's glistened over him. He watched the man who also did not change his own position. What needed to change was this situation, the impression that even with strength one couldn't consider himself invincible. Even being adaptable water could be shriveled by the mighty sun, dispersed and only changing state.
More intense, nothing short of complete calm would overtake him. He couldn't strike within much of anything towards a man who had such an aura. There were truly no blind spots in his defense, due to that wicked aura. It would seem Ryuusei would need to make some in order to advance the battle. Calling this staring game to a halt. And then it came, Ryuusei's body dashed forward placing the bo-staff into a heaving position as he bent his torso into structure. Digging his hand into its steel, he swept from the left with a powerful smash towards his opponents side to see what instance needed to be taken through this normal attack.
Landing on the ground, the attack would not stop from there, not letting up for his opponent to take the challenge to his own range of combat, Ryuusei would use the properties of the long and versatile bo-staff to his advantage. Turning his body for the next attack in order to spin quickly, using the centrifuge to direct another assault towards his opponents feet quickly trying to capture a chance of opening in the name of this assault. His tactics were fast and nimble, moving his body to attack in range of his opponent, he needed to open the opportunities in this brawl. Using the mountain's sides as his best bet, an uneven foothold due to the sloping indentations from years of forming.
All it would take is time. (Length of the staff is six feet four inches, and it is made of steel).
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Makoto Kiyoshi
Kumogakure
This will be a hard lesson for you.
Posts: 51
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Post by Makoto Kiyoshi on Apr 21, 2012 23:27:32 GMT -5
A small breeze drifted by them both. Not enough to ruffle Makoto's cloak, but enough for the cloth to shift ever so slightly to the side before returning to its original position. Makoto waited, his stance technically full of openings. Yet, with all the openings each of them seemed closed of. They seemed as inviting as they were dangerous. That aura of emptiness grew colder, hungrier. It threatened to consume all it could touch. Calm and silent. Not lashing out, but just there. Waiting with Makoto at its center.
The young man across from him seemed to explode with his own aura created from unwavering determination. It seemed intentional in Makoto's eyes. Untamed, but exceptional in its power. Those raging fires lashing out wildly around the fighter in an attempt to counteract Makoto's void. The jounin could see them clashing. Warmth and cold. Pure emotion and lack thereof. Though clashing wouldn't be the right word to describe it. To say clashing would imply that they were both battling it out. In all actuality it was more as if the flames merely washed over the space of his void, like water flowing around an unyielding stone that refused to erode away.
An unstoppable force meeting with an unmoving object. A paradox of equal terms. The manifest of order and chaos attempting balance. If anyone had ever told Makoto that he'd find someone so similar and yet so different within the world he would have only given them a skeptical look. The chances were slim. And now the result of unforeseen circumstance stood before him.
In the span of a couple of seconds Makoto's mind still went through numerous thoughts, processing them all effortlessly. Constantly recalculating the most effective options and discarding anything irrelevant. "Updating...Rules of engagement unclear. All options available. Enabling all techniques. Handicaps disabled. All current settings locked. Battle preparations complete."
Experienced eyes analyzed the young man's form; mapping out possible attack patterns and weaknesses that could be exploited. Terrain had already been noted previously, distance accurately measured. The aura suddenly shifted, going from raging outward to focusing in on itself. A warning to an imminent attack. Then it happened. The sudden tensing and explosion of tendons and muscle that closed the distance. The entire succession practiced to form a complete fluid movement.
"Body language: minimal. Lag time between preparation to movement: minimal. Speed: High. Threat range: modified by weapon. Proceeding with experiment."
The calculations continued even as Makoto gave ground, fleeing backwards to avoid the superior range of the opponent. Backtracking in, smooth controlled steps, it seemed as if he glided across the ground. He was careful not to slip, not to make a mistake and fall. Should this be a real battle it would equal his death. The jounin's posture didn't even change, but within the sleeves of his cloak his hands flashed through three seals just as he floated out of the first swing's reach.
"Sanzengarasu no Jutsu [Scattering Thousand Crows Technique]"
A single crow formed into existence between the two of them. Pitch black feathers, the color of complete darkness fell from fluttering wings. One crow turned to two then three before multiplying exponentially into nearly three dozen by the time the martial artist's back had turned to gather for a stronger second strike. The air around them swirled with birds and feathers as subtle pulses of chakra from Makoto's fingertips coordinated them into a tight vortex like formation. They consumed space rapidly as the swarm continued to increase and spread outward. The numbers grew dense enough to even block out sunlight from the center.
The crows that crossed into the path of that staff dispelled in clouds of smoke, but that would do little to help. The momentum would surely slow ever so slightly striking so many and Makoto's cloak blended into the darkness formed within the twister of crows. There was neither trickery nor honor to Makoto. There were only variables and advantages. Constant equations set out to give a specific outcome. Control the terrain and you could lead the opponent. Makoto was doing this young man a favor by introducing him to deception within battle. Should he face an actual enemy ninja, he'd have to adapt to the terms of engagement.
Using the slowed assault to his advantage, Makoto fled further. Then, unseen due to the crows, he sunk into the ground leaving no trace behind. The swarm was enough to create a cloud. The chakra based creatures squawked and spun, confusing sight and hearing. Silky feathers drifted to confuse the sense of touch. Trust more than your senses, attempt to see through the deception. "Push your limits," Makoto challenged silently, "Push mine." For a few more moments the flock would continue to fly. Then, all at once, they would disappear in in plumes of smoke.
"What will you do now that the odds are stacked against you?" Makoto thought as a copy of himself rose from the ground a on the hill where the man had started his attack from. The clone watched the cloud carefully, waiting to be noticed when the smoke cleared.
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Post by Ryuusei on Apr 22, 2012 0:01:25 GMT -5
The attack had been avoided, as the wind's had began to peak around them both from Ryuusei's small and yet adept movements. The terrain of rocks made it difficult to maneuver for someone not use to the mountains unless you knew how to shift yourself and make your weight help you in the attack you could very easily be killed in combat towards something as disastrous as a single slip of the body. Death could be so quick and yet with experience it was less of a problem. He would fight forth with more energy, not allowing for himself to make any mistakes in combat. After taking the spinning rotation of his staff through the powerful swing of his arms into the motion, a situation had occurred.
Thinking into this situation, the opponent had used what could be called a summoning of beasts to aid him. He heard that shinobi could do this but never actually saw it, a note to himself as he made his way through the darkness that was the numerous crows that attacked. He would attack with nothing but seriousness, seeing this first hand wasn't something to be gawked over but developed into more and more of his combative placement of his opponent. Shinobi's were indeed interesting individuals learning of how to use the talents that made them the best in the land. He couldn't allow this explosion of feathered beasts make him any less strong in combat. A twist of his bo-staff would begin to release what appeared to be a winding motion.
"HA!"
An explosive bo-staff going through the crows that savagely went for him made him nothing more than a walking arsenal with his bo-staff a weapon known for the ability to become akin to more than just a weapon, not nearly as sharp as a sword and not as durable as a shield but the perfect weapon for mid-range and versatile combat. He had perfected my skills for the last three years of my training to use this bo-staff as something greater than what it only appeared to be. It was a weapon he had attuned to himself with, and a weapon he had modified into something more. He spun the weapon around his body with one hand turning it as he got back into a stance...
As the last of the crow's showed he was now crouched holding his bo in a diagonal and lifted position, my toe going upward as he held his position. His eyes scanned around for the next assault from his opponent, not sensing that aura now that he was using his own craft made this a hard notion to follow. He needed to keep his mind calm and be sure to sense his killer intent. That was if he had any, he seemed different somehow than the man he had talked to just a moment ago. A distance made between that personality and between his own self had become something he could only agree with. A savage enemy indeed.
As the silhouette from his body stood across from him once again, he was surprised at what had taken place if not a bit taken back by it. This man wasn't being serious towards him, not at all. Now he had to make a decision to show his next skill. Seeing as this individual had the ability to anticipate his attacks at such a level, meant he had some skill in close-combat he wasn't showing. Ryuusei's eyes shown through the smoke now, leering at the man before him. Now the seriousness of this fight would need to begin. And with these words it would...
"I see you shinobi have skills such as summoning beasts, it's an interesting power to be true, but it means nothing if the combatant is skilled enough to beat the beast that is summoned. Correct... Is it because you have that power, that skill from your days of training and improving that you gaze upon me with such a cold expression..."
His eyes would close for a moment, taking in what could be considered his most prized skill. The ability to transcend just thought and create a barrier for himself that allowed for him to understand his surroundings. This skill was his established right after that hellish training. This skill would be his greatest weapon against an opponent such as this man. Seemingly, the boy would change rising from his position as he outstretched his staff once again. His mouth now in a grimace as he created the one technique that could give him the edge in combat.
"My passion to become stronger shall become your defrosting agent, guy."
It was complete, his focus allowed for this to become his art, his own skill set by the defensive technique produced by his own spirit. The one and only, Shuuchuu, Focus of the Mind. With this, his stare would be one of resolve, to make this shinobi see his own ideals in combat. To show his growth from all those hard sessions of combat. His staff was readied at the gate. His commands from his body would be absolute.
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Makoto Kiyoshi
Kumogakure
This will be a hard lesson for you.
Posts: 51
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Post by Makoto Kiyoshi on Apr 22, 2012 3:22:26 GMT -5
Makoto hid beneath rock and soil listening to vibrations even as feedback from his clone came through. He could sense what it sensed to a certain extent. Sight and sound mostly. Things like smell, taste and touch were a little to difficult. However, using the vibrations as a substitute the shinobi could carefully pinpoint even subtle movements. In fact with the vibrations, sight, and hearing Makoto was able to notice different things than when fighting above ground. How the movement of an enemy's fighting style transferred energy into a strike by watching and studying the connection with the ground. One was able to isolate it by the amount of pressure they exerted into the earth and and into the opponent then make an educated assumption on whether it was a 'soft' or 'hard' style.
So Makoto focused on the movements above him whilst his clone watched as the swarm began to fade. There was a flurry of motion felt, but not seen before all the crows went up in smoke. Makoto noted the level of mastery with the weapon the young man chose to wield. He was powerful, quick, and accurate with that unassuming rod of metal. Makoto would have to gather more information on the skill level before he could calculate the outcome of challenging with his own skill with the sword. Makoto's own custom techniques could turn the tide, but the shinobi wanted a more thorough analysis before considering that possibility. Makoto would rather keep his personalized techniques as a trump card in battle rather than revealing them in a spar.
"Weapon: Staff. Composition: Metal. Attack speed: Average-High [More data needed]. Attack Patterns: Within current level of prediction. Calculation: Incomplete. Pending further analysis. Continuing experiment."
Top side, his clone stared intently at the younger man. Arms hidden within the sleeves and stance balanced for an incoming attack. Though his face was still covered by the hood of his cloak, his eyes still met the martial artist's unflinching. Much like his original copy around him was a void. No emotion. No killing intent. Simply a nothingness swallowed everything around it. Orders from the original were simple and repeated over and over within its consciousness. Deceive. Lead. Control. However, the expected attack didn't come instantly. Instead the opponent paused the battle for words of boast.
"Incorrect." The clone replied in boredom. It didn't explain any further though. The creatures created by that ninjutsu were far from a true summoning contract. They were merely dull imitations at best. Makoto did not look down on him with this expression either. This cold facade hid him from the world. Protected others a swell as himself. I gave him the appearance of a monster, which was the only mask he could wear on missions. Monsters didn't have emotions, morals, fears. Humans couldn't accomplish the things a monster could without disgust.
"To use 'defrost' is to imply 'cold'," the clone corrected once more. "This is not 'cold', but 'emptiness'." It only seemed cold because of the lack of heat, the lack of warmth, the lack of anything. Then the clone waiting for the man to reveal his technique. However, the younger man stayed in his place. The original was intrigued. Makoto wondered if the boy had seen though his ploy, but observed the situation carefully. The opponent had still spoke to the clone as if it was the original. There was also the possibility that the martial artist was still too inexperienced with ninja arts to tell the difference.
"Recalculating...New orders. Initiate engagement. Proceed with caution." Makoto relayed the command to his clone clearly so it would misinterpret it and make a mistake. "Trap. Deceive. Evaluate." With that the clone took slow careful steps toward the specimen. Beneath the earth, Makoto went through a new set of handseals. "Shukuchi [Reduced Earth]" The genjutsu sought to ensnare the senses of the specimen. Tendrils of chakra snaking carefully through the body and into the brain to take root.
If successful the world would be under Makoto's control. This man would see what Makoto wanted him to see and hear only what he approved. The Makoto copy above him would suddenly blur, disappearing from sight in what would be a mockery of enhanced speed, right in front the younger man. Close enough to where he would see beneath the hood's shadow and directly into his intense different colored eyes. Close enough for the boy to feel the void of his presence. "Have you learned anything yet?" The clone would disappear again, back to back with him. "If so tell me what I've taught you so far."
The presence stayed there, curious of the reaction. Would he instill fear? Confuse the senses? Or perhaps the boy had already learned that senses couldn't already learned that his sense could be wrong already. Maybe the boy could already see that to fight a ninja was to fight you very own limitations. The original clone had stopped after only a couple of steps to give the illusion substance and he threw his aura out with it. The Makoto beneath the earth moved behind the martial artist, reflecting the strength of emptiness back and forth in an attempt to surround the opponent. This boy had his own aura and he could sense Makoto's if his words spoke truth. Perhaps this would be the key to disorienting him.
Should the genjutsu be throw off Makoto would have to reevaluate his data once more, but he had time. Experiments did often take time for results.
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Post by Ryuusei on Apr 22, 2012 13:13:55 GMT -5
A shield that was borne from the harsh training that wrought me through this world. This skill was one that could only be gained from improving oneself through training within martial arts and not the tentative of hand-to-hand combat shinobi used. A skill that could not be copied unless you trained for its skillful use within the right qualifications of your training. The Shuuchuu was a skill unlike many others, something that supplemented and complimented the skills of the martial artist in order to grant them their power to see beyond what is to be seen. Within the space of his staff, this was his dominion.
As he spoke, Ryuusei said nothing only watching him with a calm pair of eyes and a less passionate aura than what he had. In this moment his concentration was at its peak, and yet through use of the skills that set him apart from most martial artists a conclusion could be made through his body alone. He didn't need to "watch" what was happening, only staring at the man's eyes himself. It was a seemingly empty stare one that was done only when you were an idiot and understood nothing...
The situation changed for Ryuusei once more, a flood of seeming clones coming into fruition through means of his special powers. He sensed nothing from all these speedy bodies that ran through. Nothing came into his mind as the clone had moved from one spot to another within the course of a few seconds. The rising and falling of combative skills through use of a tactless illusion was something Ryuusei didn't have to understand. He did understand that none of this was real. Due to his space, he didn't sense anyone, nothing was even moving within this barrier except one person. Yet nothing was sensed from him as well, seeing through the illusion of a true body, due to it being different from the aspects of a real body. It wasn't a perfect replica, not even close to the idea of a true clone. Because if it was real... it wouldn't of entered into the dominating range of a martial artist. He didn't move, seemingly surprised at the predicament.
What has he learned from this. These words were something important to remember thanks to nothing short of the trials through battle you needed to experience and learn. Shinobi were much more sneaky than your regular individual, thus they needed the illusion of power, to become stronger than who they were facing without being stronger. There wasn't as much weight from his words, being from an empty vessel and all. Thanks to that emptiness, it was now guaranteed that Ryuusei would not be careless and strike. He would only continue to stand. Calmly pressing forth through the weaving emptiness of all things considered "nothing".
A sensation appeared from beneath his space. The tingling of his body taking the sensation of what could be understood as his next move. He understood that there was something underneath him, something that he could not see but could sense with his sixth sense, the sensation that made all other senses void. You could not trust your sight if everything was untrue, your hearing if the sounds are lying, your touch if everything was an illusion, your taste if there was nothing edible, and your smell if there was nothing there. This sense being developed as well. The next stage would begin... The new assault of emptiness and waves of nothingness ran through his aura with great speed. Something would come... patience was a virtue.
'I will not attack this shell, I will focus my assault on my true enemy, he is planning something so if I stay quiet I can predict the course of his next attack, defend and counter it with my own. All I needed to do was wait for the opportunity to strike.'
His thoughts were ranging on the next course of action, he hadn't moved since the illusions had became apparent. As if he had given up on his next course of attack. Instead, he had closed his eyes, and began to slowly feel this next course of action. He did not need to see anything, only use the mind's eye to predict what would happen next. The realization that his sight would do nothing but harm him. He saw the signatures and clicks... his heartbeat slowing steadily as he waited...
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Makoto Kiyoshi
Kumogakure
This will be a hard lesson for you.
Posts: 51
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Post by Makoto Kiyoshi on Apr 22, 2012 19:48:50 GMT -5
Makoto couldn't feel any unsteady steps from the person above him. Nothing close to the unsteady shifting that revealed surprise or worry when faced with an opponent that seemingly outmatched you. The specimen wasn't showing any fear at all and seemed perfectly content where it was. The jounin's copy could not determine why the young man felt so confident that the illusion wasn't anything to be worried of either. Makoto's illusion had been cast successfully and it had not been broken because Makoto could still feel it in place. The area above him was still very much under his control. So how was the target able to see through it?
“Method of disabling Genjutsu: Unknown.” Makoto had to admit, the boy was doing very well. More so when factoring in information like his lack of ninja training and his inexperience battling shinobi in general. The martial artist’s equation was a rare one, unique in its own form, and mostly an unknown entitiy. However, this was doing little to keep Makoto from slowly unravelling it and determining the secrets hidden in the numbers and variables. One more test should be enough for fill in the missing areas and allow for Makoto to set the terms of a full on match. A battle between them that would challenge both of their skill levels. Sure, the shinobi could have finished this if he’d so chose. But that would mean little.
Wars were always fought with deception within the ranks of hidden villages. That deception bled into individual battles. Confusion. Misdirection. Control. Makoto was very aware of that as a shinobi and experienced it utilizing it, but this boy wasn’t. As a straightforward fighter, he seemed to follow a code of conduct. Everything about his was direct in confrontation so far. Their methods and styles contradicted each other much like the professions they’d chosen and the paths they walked. Makoto couldn’t simply pass up the opportunity to experiment with his own skills either. How would his own brand of close combat fair against one who dedicated them so strictly within its realms? From what he’d calculated so far, Makoto was within his data to say that his skill with a sword could match that staff. So far, much of it was still locked into a state of constant change as more and more data revealed itself.
The question of how this boy stood so fearless within the confines of the genjutsu was still open. The original rose from the ground to the left of the fighter, hidden by the genjutsu that was still in effect. Makoto was well out of range, giving himself time to react to a charge should whatever phenomenon the young man was using see through his genjutsu completely. The warped image created by the genjutsu strayed to the far right, flanking the opponent on the opposite side to see if he gave it any attention. Then the clone closed the distance whilst the original waited. After seeing the copy of himself strike, Makoto threw five shuriken to see what this 'passion' held that allowed the martial artist to see through illusions on such a level. The thrown weapons took an unpredictable path, winking in and out of existence. Sometimes appearing closer while at others much further off.
Makoto then allowed himself to be partially revealed, his stance still the same as when they started. Partially revealed in that he had overlapped himself with an image that was slightly off. It made him seem slightly closer and more to the right of his real position. Barely noticeable, but strategic in hindsight allowing room for movement. The truth of his position was hidden by even his shadow as he made sure to add that to his calculations. Close, but not precise. The sun's position over head had changed ever so slightly, confirming that some time had passed during his experiments.
The clone, a mere shadow of his true power, made a slow and careful charge. Starting out a one hundred meters, it took five steps before bursting into a run. Low to the ground as the cloak flared out behind it, the distance closed rapidly. Seventy meters, then forty, and finally reaching ten as its hand moved to the sword at its side. Then in one movement, it both drew the blade and lashed out with a quick horizontal slash. Careful with its footwork, the copy side stepped in anticipation of a counter while taking its sword firmly in a two handed grip for another slash that went diagonally from hip to shoulder as it gave ground to cover a retreat. The 'real' shuriken would then find there mark lest the target move or block them.
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Post by Ryuusei on Apr 22, 2012 20:25:24 GMT -5
The beckoning strength of his opponent called upon him with the intensity of the elusive combat came to fruition. Taking in the lack of experience against the shinobi was his own skill at detecting within his circular barrier frame. All that could be done was to guarantee that he could cause himself to take aim towards his opponents own combat prowess, but that wouldn't necessarily be the correct ideal in a battle like this. A battle where you needed to somehow overcome the techniques that allowed for random illusions, beats of energy, and split-second actions needed to be considered through everything.
To change from something like being handily capable of seeing through the darkest shadows in order to find the correct form towards defeating this opponent. It was an opportunity. To rise above what could just be considered normalcy in superiority towards the demon's of the shadows. Capable of much more than was anticipated from Ryuusei at the beginning. It was only a matter of time before the true combat was under way, and Ryuusei would have to take aim towards winning against an opponent who could fight on his own terms. There were still many things he didn't know about his opponent, and he needed to actually confront him the best way possible.
He could not see through illusions outside of the space of his zone, those illusions from the outside weren't connected with what could be considered inside the barrier where the sixth sense allowed for the range of his skills to actually be used efficiently. If you took into consideration of what you could withstand and how the illusions worked you could of changed the way you would need to direct the battle to your own favor otherwise you would be overwhelmed. Ryuusei had made the decision to keep waiting. To keep being slow and yet steady as he needed to effectively adapt to this battle to win, after all he saw what rushing into this battle had gotten him with the combative use of the crows. That would make all the difference in an instant. He would need to memorize the potentials of shinobi, in order to better make himself a combatant.
After all he still had trump cards of his own in combat, that he wouldn't need to share in battle just yet. He would guard himself so that he wouldn't be attacked by the brutal waves of tragedy towards the shinobi's skills. In a change of direction from his opponent he would seemingly launch a mass of throwing weapons capable of changing trajectory in mid-air through skillful use of his technical aptitude in the shinobi set. At first Ryuusei he would seemingly not react to such a thing from the distance, but as they closed in an amazing thing happened. His next counterattack would come from his opponents own assault.
Lifting up his bo-staff he would begin to anticipate the next attacks as they closed in. The opponent seemingly running at him with a vicious beat against the ground. His speed seemed to be exceptional but not to the point Ryuusei feared the advance, his eyes still closed as he got ready for the next assault. Quickly, he blocked the horizontal slash with a bouncing effect against his staff, smashing against the blades power and signaling for himself to stand his ground, pushing the blade back with his own strength as he slipped his fingers over his staff once more, twisting it rapidly for the next attack. His eye shad quickly opened, as he would swing the staff overhead, going for the next assault to be a clincher within the realm of a few seconds, double-handed the staff went into the sword, creating a tremendous pressure as he stepped forward to release the blow.
Quickly the process came for the next cataclysm of events a circling wave of flying objects towards his body as he anticipated his opponents next assault. Seemingly these stars called shuriken coming at him with blinding speed. His thoughts went into this for quick reassurance of skill. The versatile shinobi using what appears to be a "clone?" of himself in anticipation towards the assault. Quickly, after the last attack, Ryuusei's staff would begin to break into pieces with great speed, releasing the lock on the staff as what seemed to be two chained poles in each of his hands could be seen, his nunchaku.
Deflection would come with the fast movements of his hands and the nunchaku, the speed of which he blocked the shuriken was almost break taking. A seeming world wind defense had enveloped him as his arms moved in dramatic and fast movements. He screamed to gesture his kiai changing his position. He turned towards his opponent as he deflected the last of the shuriken and with a slip of his movement, would place his body into a centrifuge rotation and attack with his right nunchaku to smash the clones body with the fierce power of his steel and force weighing in on his attack.
"WUTAH!"
He screamed loudly infusing kiai into himself as his arm whipped backwards from the assault against his opponents body, beginning to show his expertise in use of the nunchaku as well. Moving his arms once again with the showy style of the nunchaku, twisting and rotating the chained poles before he would stop them both at the same time placing two of the poles under under his armpits and began to move around with small jumping stance in place to show his readiness in this fighting style. No words needed to be said as his eyes kept their fierceness.
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Makoto Kiyoshi
Kumogakure
This will be a hard lesson for you.
Posts: 51
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Post by Makoto Kiyoshi on Apr 24, 2012 3:31:38 GMT -5
Makoto's shuriken curved through the path he'd set them on. Quickly spinning in a deadly dance. The boy ignored them for the most part. Makoto knew he had to have seen them. It was the whole purpose of him partially revealing his true position. Yet, when the shuriken appeared further to the point of being dangerously close they were seen as empty threats, whether they whistled by or tried to shread flesh. No change in focus or in movement, not even the slightest of flinches that would point to him gambling on an idea. The fighter had complete confidence that they would do him no harm.
Well before the real throwing weapons made contact, Makoto's doppelganger attacked. Precise and efficient, yet the fighter weathered the blows easily as he stood his ground. Stood his ground even though he knew that weapons were cutting through the air towards him in anticipation. Makoto had planned to draw this duel to a close after collecting his previous data. However, this changed things. There was still one oddity left and he was not inexperienced enough to rush toward it. Every illusion thrown off, without chakra, effortlessly. Then Makoto noticed something even as the boy's staff pushed his clone back.
He had stood his ground. Makoto considered it. Standing his ground when it would have been easier to dodge the fake and make a charge towards where the original seemed to be. Even now, he didn't back out, separating his weapon into two more and deflecting the thrown metal. A pivot, a twist to use circling force, which smashed into his clone's hasty block with enough power to disable it. The fake unraveled and melted into the substance used to create it, mud. All of it occured within a certain range. The shuriken weren't a thought until they were close. The clone wasn't dodged, even though slow. All the attacks were defended against instead of avoided.
Was that wild unfocused energy a blank spot his illusion couldn't reach? How should he approach this phenomenon? Illusions fell short. Higher grade ninjutsu would cripple at least and kill at most, lest the boy spare himself by his own strength. Makoto didn't doubt his prowess if this spar was anything to go by so far, but he wouldn't trust himself to pull back on a killing blow that had been burned into his being. The death of a specimen that held no threat would only serve to be problematic in his eyes and those of his superiors.
That area was claimed by the boy, but Makoto still held the field strongly within his grasp. The surroundings were not his ally. Hills and rocks moved on their own accord, having seemingly grown bored with their current positions, The ground's slopes shifted, trying to confuse outsiders. Some of the scarce trees spread throughout the area grew larger while other smaller. The world twisted around them and for the first time throughout this experiment, Makoto's hands left the confines of their sleeves.
The winds shifted unnaturally around him. They whipped about and stirred at the call of his chakra. Then Makoto advanced across the twisted ground that was confused by its own shape. The wind followed obediently. Slow measured steps, some fitting in with the illusion while others defied it completely. It was a scare tactic to put the boy at ease. He could sense the danger to body, but how safe was his mind? The man was still a ways off, but he raised his arm and brought it down smoothly.
Fūton: Daitoppa [Wind Release: Great Breakthrough]
A wall of wind roared forward. Obvious and strong, but unfocused enough to cover a general area. Then Makoto locked eyes with the boy from beneath his hood and let loose a number of binding shackles focused by sheer will and chakra.
Kanashibari no Jutsu [Temporary Paralysis Technique]
Though the small squall was relatively weak considering it wasn't focused, the ropes that bound the boy would prevent escape. Not a method to kill just something to unnerve him, plant a seed of helplessness. The bonds Kanashibari put him under weren't the height of what he could do so it would only take a small effort to break. However, they would hold for at least a second and a second was all Makoto needed. All the while Makoto moved ever closer, still far off, but distance increasing bit by bit. Would the fighter let slow pace of battle overtake him and fuel a rush or could he mind hold up from those baser instinct he so prided within himself? Makoto may not be out to kill, but he wouldn't insult the boy by treating him as a newborn babe.
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Post by Ryuusei on Apr 24, 2012 12:26:56 GMT -5
Adapting in battle was crucial especially when you were outmatched by your opposition. If you could not adapt you perished under the weight of your rigid motions. A calm mind and a strong spirit were needed in order to adapt as you needed to concentrate your power on making yourself become that much stronger in battle. Stronger than you ever were you would be that much better at predicting, and competing with those who had taken their skills to you. Angling over how you needed to defeat them and how their abilities worked. Developing a work around towards them. Defeating the opponents abilities meant all of this and more.
He had staved off the attacks of his opposition so far whether serious or not in context he still did more than his share of beating away the many types of attacks his opponent had. With much of his skills taking a course to defeat the oppositions on psyche and show that in martial combat he was outmatched in battle. This made Ryuusei smirk a bit in interest to this situation. Proving his dominance in this aspect of battle had its own advantages. It took guts to stand up to an opponent with crazy powers, but just because it was bug versus a bug, it didn't mean that the bug would be defeated or eaten without a fight.
Though through the warp sense of interest, something amazing had happened. Changing into a different substance all together, he watched as the clone turned into seeming mud, drooling across the ground a sit poured downward. Had this been some type of trick, or what? The ability to create a substance of mud through whatever means and make it into a person was an astonishing feat indeed. Equal surprise had appeared on his face came as he stopped moving for a moment and looked after the muddy corpse before him, though it wasn't truly a corpse.
'This is the form of a ninja, it seems to fit really well I think... a muddy puddle, haha.'
He would start to snicker a bit, but stopped thanks to the sound of a release of air at an explosive level of power. An exclamation of this point was seen as Ryuusei's eyes traveled towards the now open sight of the combatant once more. Confused for only a moment, he would need to begin his next action. His body sprang into the air in order to dodge the attack, but with the coming of a peculiar technique through eye contact he was stopped within that very moment. His eyes opened significantly, not being capable of moving his body while in mid-air. The attack would come at him with great speed as he tried to dodge but couldn't move his body at all, the situation had turned sour.
'W-what's wrong with my body, move dammit move!'
The barreling wind came hitting into him with its awesome power sending him backwards through the air as he jettisoned away from the position. His nunchaku dropping from his grasp from the great impact. Being on a mountain meant falling was a long ways, and that death could be easily viable through way of the height or the sharp rocks, colliding with his body. His eyes were closed, he screamed in pain from the explosive air hitting against his body with significant power.
'WHAT EXTRAORDINARY POWER, CAN HE CONTROL THE WIND TOO?!'
His spiraling aerial body would begin to fall at an angle as he would begin to almost smash his head against the ground. Placing his hands forward his hands starting to bleed from the scratching of the jagged stones. His teeth gritted deeply as he began to clench his hands into the stone terrain. Starting to breath slowly as the sweat went down his body, he started to ponder on this situation. Taking a glance up as the air blew harshly, a smile appeared on his face shortly after. Starting to climb up the mountain slowly at first, gripping his hands on the stones, to grasp further and further. He would start to jettison in a high speed run, quickly climbing the base of the mountain.
"This power he has, as a combatant, he is superior to me with these skills of controlling the elements... significant advantages all around, yet I must not give in."
Pressing his right leg into the ground, a steep movement forward as he collected the energy, and with an explosive jump he would dash in mid-air doing a round of somersault flips as he finally landed on top of the mountain, scrapping his feet into the ground as he sighed deeply, more sweat appeared on his body. His fingers bleeding slowly from grasping the rock, small secretions of his blood going against the rocks.
He would begin to walk forward slowly, stopping a full yard apart from his opponent. Picking up his weapons, placing them together as he spun the bo-staff around pivoting it. He punctured it into the ground showing his steely resolve as it clashed into the ground deeply snug into the stone and rock. A smile had appeared on his face, as once again he erected his barrier around him.
"I'm not through yet, guy... come at me with your full strength or you won't win."
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