[center][img]http://i57.tinypic.com/2e2ozra.jpg[/img] [h2][color=fuchsia][b]Aoi Don Maquia[/b][/color][/h2] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HU5Jmzkm3-Q]Tango[/url][/center] [hr] One second in the fight and the clown's attention would already be deviated toward her phone vibrating. Expecting it to be her specially selected medic for this unique occasion, she'd quickly get disillusioned as it was simply a system update, causing her to phone-palm. Strangely enough, Yuna wasn't responsive and yet she was summoned at least fifteen minutes ago, added to that would be the usually punctual nature of such a demand from a Jonin and the responsibilities held by the Hojo these days. Big booms and rapid successions of hits were all too common for this colorful shinobi and the fun only resided in the idea that she was winning something no matter the alternative. Still, she was disconcerted by the redhead's absence, causing her inner OCD to spam the girl with messages as waves of dust flew by her as residues of the battle. [quote=Aoi]oi were r u???[/quote] [quote=Aoi]Hello??!!! wii need u![/quote] [quote=Aoi]plzplzplz da 2 barberions r guna hurt lots!!!!! :C[/quote] As flooding of the Hojo's message box filled with such pointless reminders in very short intervals, Chokashi's Buddhist palm would finally shake things up to the point that Aoi would drop her activities for a second. The shockwave would blow her hair backwards and completely ruin it, prompting her cheeks to inflate in irritation. When she took a peek at what exactly they were doing, they both seemed in bad shape, especially Chokashi as she tripled his belly's size. And finally BAM, Daisuke delivered what seemed to be a coup de grâce on the rolling boulder, Chokashi falling over in defeat. Cocking a brow, the harlequin didn't quite know what to announce yet. After all, they were only at it for twenty seconds tops, far from being enough for the girl to do other distractions out of sloth. But before she'd make any conclusions, a wild Akimichi clan leader appeared and caught Aoi off guard. "[color=fuchsia]WAAAAHHHH! Whew whew... Erm yes yes! He ... Could do better, yeah! ... Wait, I invited family and friends?![/color]" With that little fright, she held her hand over her chest as her now employer said what he had to say, and she responded as cookie cutter as possible. Of course, she barely watched the fight so she couldn't give anything consistent or comment about either fighting style. A bad habit but she always liked surprises, and when she'd handle them both, it'd be an entirely new surprise when she'd fight them for the most part. She was now trying to recall if she had indeed invited anyone other than Yuna for practical reasons, though not all that practical given her status. Finally she'd notice Chen, a really weird guy she didn't seem to have a good vibe about. Then again, openly hostile sociopaths would give that impression to anyone, even when faking, contrarily to well adapted psychopaths. She wasn't one to read others, but her social skills made it easy for her the harlequin to notice red flags. Nonetheless, she waved at him, giving the bare minimum to not have to talk. "[color=fuchsia]... Hey! No no no Mister Akimichi! Chokashi has to pay for it by himself~ That's the deal! And if Daisuke is the winner ...[/color]" She'd stand on her feet, appearing much taller than she normally was before swiftly jumping toward the buff man. Her feet would aim to land on the damaged man's now hair-filled head and she'd remain there like a resting vulture. As a small reward, she'd pass him a small box of apple juice he could savor before the BBQ would have to be setup. "[color=fuchsia]Drink up, 'cause I promised you a mission if you win! Well then~ Our mission is to get the BBQ ready~ And of course, you have you carry your captain!~[/color]" Aoi would stay standing on his head, more practically on one foot as she balanced herself easily. If she'd be brushed off beforehand, she'd simply hop back up. The positive side to this was that she was evidently light, but she could also make herself lighter with the correct posture and balancing. In exchange, Daisuke had better not move around too much or he'll feel the whiplash for at least a week. [hr] [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/jV61b4n.gif[/img] [h2][color=gold][b]Gian - The Nobleman's Walk[/b][/color][/h2] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5408lamLklU]The Ruined Scenery[/url][/center] [hr] Gin was being tenderized like freshly found meat, though not in the way he'd expect. The individual in the cloak would consistently make strong and swift movements to translate a form of graveness to their strikes and accentuate the amount of damage it was inflicting. In reality however, their orders were not to break him physically but mentally, after all he could have his final uses and a maimed tool is a useless one. The various drugs injected in Gin would of course make him have powerful hallucinations all the while being stuck on the harsh reality that was currently his. The guts and blood would only be a result of what his brain would deduce from such pain and his senses were of course tampered with other than feeling, just not as much. The concealed figure was simply inflicting superficial wounds, usually in areas that wouldn't be too conspicuous if he were to be dressed up. But the pain was very much real, and this person knew exactly where to jab a scalpel in order to get excellent results. Not once did the individual make a single effort of communication, let alone talk to Gin. The paper the young man saw was of course intentional to break his morale. Because exhausting him physically wasn't an option, the hooded figure didn't opt to force the boy to stand permanently for the whole process, but instead kept him tied up to a table and had a drop of water fall on his forehead in irregular intervals. The water droplet torture method, known to make someone mad in sordid anticipation in astounding speed. This would happen every second he'd be locked up, tortured or not, so he'd evidently find solace when the torturer would leave. The air conditioning positioned in front of his face and body when left to rest up and feed would prove to be the worst hell, combined with his body being constantly damp by the drops of water and he'd feel the extent of his mind's limits. Finally, after a week of this endless cycle, two silhouettes would walk out of the only door leading to this torture room. Gin being left with his cuts and his drenched face. The difference here would be that he was sat down on a steel chair with chakra cuffs tied to his hands behind the chair. His feet were also tired to avoid any funny business of course, but he wasn't in a physical condition to struggle much with such sleep depravity. The hooded torturer would stay at the entrance's level, their glowing eyes glaring directly into Gin's soul before it would turn back and leave. The person walking toward the broken white haired shinobi would be a masked man looking like a jester with a golden attire and multiple features in its clothes style that almost made it seem redundant. As the man got closer, Gin would feel some sort of genuine tension in the air that would not only cause mild nausea but sting even the smallest cuts to a point where it seemed like they were being stabbed once more. Added to that would be the increased bleeding. "[color=gold]Oh my, even with a soft treatment you look like utter crap. Hmmm, Gin Kakiyama, age 21, born in Kirigakure, transferred to Konoha since a few years now. I bet it's for the scenery huh? Blood type O+, aren't you a generous type; Dad died as a hero and mum's as vulnerable as ever for a twisted fuck like me to screw with you some more. Hmmm, blah blah blah, nothing noteworthy really other than some dumb ambition about being some swordsman. Typical Kiri indeedo.[/color]" As he spoke in length about Gin's profile, reading it off a paper he was already holding, he'd grab a wooden chair and set it before Gin with only a meter of distance. Gian would set it the wrong way, backside in front of the tortured Gin, and he'd sit on it like some bored cop with arms crossed and laying on the top. His blank, white eyes concealed by the mask would scrutinize the boy some more before the mysterious man would grin widely. "[color=gold]Hah, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Gian, and I'll be your best friend today, Gin. And I can see we have at least one thing in common. Guess what it is? If you do, I'll release you from those chains so you can stretch a bit, how does that sound? Oh, and I'm one to give lots and lots of second chances, so if you miss I guess you can also answer this: Why do you think you're here?[/color]" The way he seemed to see this as some form of casual chitchat or interview would likely be unnerving to most people, but it was evident that people of this caliber were at least desensitized to such acts and even executed them frequently to have things done. He didn't release any hostility however, not like the hooded figure. Plus, he was going to hold his word and release the boy, knowing full well he wouldn't stand a chance again the jester. To confirm his promise, he'd show the key to the chains at the tip of his index finger, spinning like a spin top. All the while, the droplets kept falling on the new empty table, making a well pronounced sound that Gin could hear very, very well.