Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts


Burai Kasei




For the first time that day, Burai found himself at a loss for words.

"I-" Kenshiro's retort was as efficient as it was effectively cutting, each word chosen far more carefully than his own had been, and he had to admit, if begrudgingly, that the boy had a point. He bristled, his hackles raising indignantly.

"I didn't-!" Who did this Hyuuga think he was, telling him how to use his own bloodline?! How could he possibly deign to understand the work he’d put into mastering that technique?! The nerve!

“You-!” How dare he? It wasn’t Burai’s fault that his teammates seemed so determined to fail this test! His reasoning was rock solid! Had he been too insistent? No, that couldn’t be it, his clan-mates had never reacted so poorly to his more forward outbursts-

"Oh." The realisation was as sudden as it was unpleasant. ‘These people aren’t family.’ How could he have been so stupid? Hadn’t his cousins warned him of the way the Kasei were seen? Hadn’t he worked for his entire academy career to cultivate an image of competence and wit? He’d been so caught up in thoughts of friendship and teamwork that he’d forgotten how little he actually knew these people and made an utter fool of himself as a result! His face contorted angrily.

For a moment, his thoughts whirled like a hurricane before he drew his focus back onto his surroundings. Kenshiro's chakra was swirling angrily as Burai’s, matching the frustration in his tone, and Shiori... Shiori seemed almost mocking. Words swirled at the tip of his tongue, retorts and explanations both. By the time Kenshiro had announced he was leaving, the only words Burai could form were "Did I really sound like Jin?" He watched the boy set off, followed shortly after by Shiori whose chakra was stained with outwardly malicious disdain.

Oh, and wasn't she her own kettle of fish? He cursed himself for his stubbornness; The girl was clearly beyond his reach. She had turned to leave without so much as looking at him. 'She never intended to trust me, did she?' Anger roiled again, hot and focused: His whole life had been leading him here, and she deigned herself as being above that?! Part of him tensed instinctively, his own chakra flowing erratically as, for a moment, he considered going after her. He was snapped out of it, however, by his teacher speaking up. He missed what was said, but turned around to give her his proper attention. Only, she wasn’t-

YAAAAAAHHH!

He cried out, a sharp pain overwhelming him as a flare of blinding chakra overpowered his mind momentarily. He doubled over, clutching his head in an attempt to cope with the sudden onslaught of sensation. A wave killer intent assaulted him, suddenly, like nothing he’d felt before. Through the haze, he could make out Suto-sensei behind the others. Was she-?

"sutooOOOOO-"

“Kenshiro, look out!”

Panicked, it was all he could force from his lungs as he searched frantically for a chakra signature. The buckets!

“Substitution!”

A puff of smoke heralded his sudden replacement with a bucket of water, moments before the tail-end of a lance of energy flashed past. Shuddering, he tensed his body, tenketsu straining as he forced his chakra skin to its absolute thickest. Almost an inch of syrup-like purple aura crawled over him, and in the second it took for his brain to reboot itself, he took comfort in its warmth.

“What… What is happening?” Had… had he been wrong? But he couldn’t have been! He knew the procedures! He knew how this worked! And yet-

Another wave of killing intent hit him like a battering ram, and he heaved, bile and the remains of his breakfast spilling onto the ground beneath him. Was… was she really going to kill them?! Then, was she a spy? Some kind of rogue?! And what about the others?! Hurriedly, he formed his hands into the Kasei seal and flared a bubble of chakra, tagging the others. It seemed Shio- Spiga-san and Kenshiro had escaped the blast, which was… relieving.

“What the hell is going on?!” The question tore from his throat unbidden, rasping and painful from vomiting. This was… far beyond him. Beyond his reach. He was going to die here, wasn’t he? All three of them were.

Uncle Jou would be so disappointed.

For a second time, his brain crashed, and he vacantly observed as, lazily, a single fat fly alighted onto the contents of his remaining bucket for a drink and-

“What?” It died! But then-?

“This water… is caustic?” The realisation struck him suddenly, followed shortly by a wave of surging, frantic energy. “Water style… is within my reach!” A manic smile pulled itself onto his lips and stuck fast. It wasn’t over until it was over, was it? At that moment, he could’ve hit himself. “Mum and Dad wouldn’t have gone down like this, would they Burai?” He flashed his hands through his Water Style practise seals before plunging his right into the bucket. The water, as if pulled towards its origin, snaked up his arm, small rivulets peeling away and dropping to the floor. “They went down fighting, and so will you.”

A manic tear rolled down his cheek.

A laugh tore from his throat, wild and painful.

“Burai Kasei never backs down from a challenge!”

With a yell, he charged back towards the others, a disintegrating lance forming at his side. Water droplets streamed behind him. He'd go for the arm. A disabling strike, after all, would be his best chance at survival against so vastly superior an opponent.

“You two! Get out of here! I’m going to put this right!”

Rokumaru the Crusher




As a Missing Nin, Rokumaru of the Hidden Stone had been in some tricky situations in his short life; from barely outrunning Hunter Nin to finding himself on the receiving end of one of his brothers' tempers, the bokken he'd stolen all those years ago had certainly landed him in hot water more than once. Rarely, however, had those situations left him in as much anticipation as this. Earthtongue was almost shaking in his hand as he held it to the earth, as it had been from the moment he'd collapsed the entrance.

Those clones had left them both unsatisfied.

Truly, he was glad he'd accepted this job. Sure, the circumstances were shady, but the pay was good enough to leave him comfortable for at least a month, and the fights it looked as though he'd be getting were worth it in themselves! Helped that the other Chuunin he was stuck with were decent company: Both of them were decently attractive (although one of them was... creepy) and they were good to needle. Not now, of course! They were up against Jounin! 'Won't be easy to kill, that's for sure.' He rolled his current twig between his teeth and grinned.

He was already quivering with excitement.

He was broken from his thoughts, however, by a tremor in the earth. The seal-inscribed Bokken in his hand quivered, and he quickly ran some chakra into it, feeling the earth nearby. The entrance!

"Oy, you two!" He spat out his twig and moved to a more ready stance as he addressed the others, smirking viciously. His eyes narrowed. "We've got company!"

Discreetly, he tapped Earthtongue to the ground once, twice, then three times, feeling the lay of the rocks beneath him as the collapsed entrance began to glow hot and fall away. Almost too soon, it was gone, and for a moment, things were still. A stand-off. One of the adults turned to the other to speak, (he didn't bother to listen), while the kids around them got themselves ready to fight.

"Genin," he muttered, still grinning viciously. "This'll be more fun than I thought!"

He looked to the other two, casting them a warning look, before deciding it was time to break through the no-man's land between them. With a yell, and a pulse of chakra, he slammed his Bokken into the ground beneath him. Rocks burst upwards in response, seeming to hover for a moment as he lined up another swing.

"Sixth Brother Technique: Storm of Shrapnel!"

With practiced precision, he swung the chakra weapon in a great arc, his off-hand pressed to his moving arm in a series of one-handed seals. It slammed into each of the stones as they began to fall, and with a pulse of earth chakra they exploded outwards, towards the enemy, in a wave of sharp, fast-moving fragments.

"Bring it on, ya fucks!"

Burai Kasei




For the first time that day, Burai found himself at a loss for words.

"I-" Kenshiro's retort was as efficient as it was effectively cutting, each word chosen far more carefully than his own had been, and he had to admit, if begrudgingly, that the boy had a point. He bristled, his hackles raising indignantly.

"I didn't-!" Who did this Hyuuga think he was, telling him how to use his own bloodline?! How could he possibly deign to understand the work he’d put into mastering that technique?! The nerve!

“You-!” How dare he? It wasn’t Burai’s fault that his teammates seemed so determined to fail this test! His reasoning was rock solid! Had he been too insistent? No, that couldn’t be it, his clan-mates had never reacted so poorly to his more forward outbursts-

"Oh." The realisation was as sudden as it was unpleasant. ‘These people aren’t family.’ How could he have been so stupid? Hadn’t his cousins warned him of the way the Kasei were seen? Hadn’t he worked for his entire academy career to cultivate an image of competence and wit? He’d been so caught up in thoughts of friendship and teamwork that he’d forgotten how little he actually knew these people and made an utter fool of himself as a result! His face contorted angrily.

For a moment, his thoughts whirled like a hurricane before he drew his focus back onto his surroundings. Kenshiro's chakra was swirling angrily as Burai’s, matching the frustration in his tone, and Shiori... Shiori seemed almost mocking. Words swirled at the tip of his tongue, retorts and explanations both. By the time Kenshiro had announced he was leaving, the only words Burai could form were "Did I really sound like Jin?" He watched the boy set off, followed shortly after by Shiori whose chakra was stained with outwardly malicious disdain.

Oh, and wasn't she her own kettle of fish? He cursed himself for his stubbornness; The girl was clearly beyond his reach. She had turned to leave without so much as looking at him. 'She never intended to trust me, did she?' Anger roiled again, hot and focused: His whole life had been leading him here, and she deigned herself as being above that?! Part of him tensed instinctively, his own chakra flowing erratically as, for a moment, he considered going after her. He was snapped out of it, however, by his teacher speaking up. He missed what was said, but turned around to give her his proper attention. Only, she wasn’t-

YAAAAAAHHH!

He cried out, a sharp pain overwhelming him as a flare of blinding chakra overpowered his mind momentarily. He doubled over, clutching his head in an attempt to cope with the sudden onslaught of sensation. A wave killer intent assaulted him, suddenly, like nothing he’d felt before. Through the haze, he could make out Suto-sensei behind the others. Was she-?

"sutooOOOOO-"

“Kenshiro, look out!”

Panicked, it was all he could force from his lungs as he searched frantically for a chakra signature. The buckets!

“Substitution!”

A puff of smoke heralded his sudden replacement with a bucket of water, moments before the tail-end of a lance of energy flashed past. Shuddering, he tensed his body, tenketsu straining as he forced his chakra skin to its absolute thickest. Almost an inch of syrup-like purple aura crawled over him, and in the second it took for his brain to reboot itself, he took comfort in its warmth.

“What… What is happening?” Had… had he been wrong? But he couldn’t have been! He knew the procedures! He knew how this worked! And yet-

Another wave of killing intent hit him like a battering ram, and he heaved, bile and the remains of his breakfast spilling onto the ground beneath him. Was… was she really going to kill them?! Then, was she a spy? Some kind of rogue?! And what about the others?! Hurriedly, he formed his hands into the Kasei seal and flared a bubble of chakra, tagging the others. It seemed Shio- Spiga-san and Kenshiro had escaped the blast, which was… relieving.

“What the hell is going on?!” The question tore from his throat unbidden, rasping and painful from vomiting. This was… far beyond him. Beyond his reach. He was going to die here, wasn’t he? All three of them were.

Uncle Jou would be so disappointed.

For a second time, his brain crashed, and he vacantly observed as, lazily, a single fat fly alighted onto the contents of his remaining bucket for a drink and-

“What?” It died! But then-?

“This water… is caustic?” The realisation struck him suddenly, followed shortly by a wave of surging, frantic energy. “Water style… is within my reach!” A manic smile pulled itself onto his lips and stuck fast. It wasn’t over until it was over, was it? At that moment, he could’ve hit himself. “Mum and Dad wouldn’t have gone down like this, would they Burai?” He flashed his hands through his Water Style practise seals before plunging his right into the bucket. The water, as if pulled towards its origin, snaked up his arm, small rivulets peeling away and dropping to the floor. “They went down fighting, and so will you.”

A manic tear rolled down his cheek.

A laugh tore from his throat, wild and painful.

“Burai Kasei never backs down from a challenge!”

With a yell, he charged back towards the others, a disintegrating lance forming at his side. Water droplets streamed behind him. He'd go for the arm. A disabling strike, after all, would be his best chance at survival against so vastly superior an opponent.

“You two! Get out of here! I’m going to put this right!”
Consider me interested! I've had a few One Piece ideas a-brewing, so this could be fun!
NOELLE HODGE

New York City
21st of August, 2050


Noelle's morning was, as usual, entirely mundane. Her alarm clock, a loud, shrill thing, met with its usual fate at precisely 6:30am, landing in a shattered, smouldering heap on the floor only to return to its perch, still crowing, some nine seconds later. She crawled out of bed a good ten minutes later, as she did most days, and stumbled to the washroom with a groan to splash some water over her face in an attempt to wake up. At 7 o'clock precisely, a slightly more composed Noelle, now clothed in a loose button-down one of her exes had left and a pair of baggy shorts, ambled into her apartment's kitchen and flicked on the radio to listen to the morning news while she made herself a cup of hot tea. As the same old New York gossip drifted past her still-bleary ears, she set about mindlessly cooking breakfast, a snap of her fingers yielding a flame to heat the pan (She wasn't worried about power costs, but it was good, mindless practise).

Her cup of lifeblood in one hand and a Full English in the other, she eventually made her way through to her lounge, flicking on the lights with a smack of her head against the switch. Tiredly, she flopped down onto the sofa, and downed half her mug in one go before flicking on the television. Like every other Sunday, there Soap Opera omnibus on almost every channel, so she flicked to the least annoying for some background noise and ate her breakfast with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Time was, when she'd first settled down here some months prior, that she'd have been beside herself simply for a familiar living space and some alone time; nowadays, she couldn't help but feel bored.

She finished the last of her Bacon as some catfight broke out on her programme, and she chuckled half-heartedly before, finally, picking up her phone from the coffee table, where it had been left charging as usual. It was packed with the usual guff, along with a long-winded, insubstantial message from her father that she only half read, and, at 8 o'clock, she finally gave in and decided to get some work done. Her office was a small space to the side of the flat, sequestered in what used to be a storage cupboard. (She liked how snug it was). The computer was some fancy, top-of-the-line garbage that a sales assistant had flogged her for far more than it was probably worth, and it booted quickly, bringing her face-to-face with a loudly flashing priority e-Mail notification which she promptly ignored. She'd had the like a few times before, and, frankly, it was too bloody early to deal with governmental bullshit.

The best part of an hour was spent doing some cursory research into an esoteric fire spell her dad had suggested she look at a few weeks ago. It took a few passwords she maybe shouldn't have had access to, but hey, payment was payment, and she came out of it with a new project to work on! That done, she took a moment to write out a decent reply to her dad before deciding she'd procrastinated enough. With a sigh, she opened up her e-Mail and, leaving the pop-up for last, began her daily review of the hundreds of job requests that regularly flooded her inbox. It was largely the usual: new magitech reactors needing an overseer, a couple of private live-fires, an experiment into the effect of pain on a Daeva's natural abilities from some new-age group in Tokyo (which was swiftly ignored), and a few British civil servants requesting her help on the security front, which she flagged up as potentials. (As unique as her Time Slip was, she always appreciated being recognised for her more standard talents). There was also a high-paying job as a stunt supervisor for a nearby film shoot, and the money seemed good, so she added that to the shortlist. Only after a good twenty minutes of this routine did she finally reach the end of the list and, with some reluctance, turn her attention to whatever the CIA wanted from her this time.

When she left her office, there was an uncharacteristically cheerful look on her face, and she hummed thoughtfully to herself as she made her second cup of tea that morning.

"Well, this should spice up my month."
In HJM's Tester 2 mos ago Forum: Test Forum
NOELLE HODGE

New York City
21st of August, 2050


Noelle's morning was, as usual, entirely mundane. Her alarm clock, a loud, shrill thing, met with its usual fate at precisely 6:30am, landing in a shattered, smouldering heap on the floor only to return to its perch, still crowing, some nine seconds later. She crawled out of bed a good ten minutes later, as she did most days, and stumbled to the washroom with a groan to splash some water over her face in an attempt to wake up. At 7 o'clock precisely, a slightly more composed Noelle, now clothed in a loose button-down one of her exes had left and a pair of baggy shorts, ambled into her apartment's kitchen and flicked on the radio to listen to the morning news while she made herself a cup of hot tea. As the same old New York gossip drifted past her still-bleary ears, she set about mindlessly cooking breakfast, a snap of her fingers yielding a flame to heat the pan (She wasn't worried about power costs, but it was good, mindless practise).

Her cup of lifeblood in one hand and a Full English in the other, she eventually made her way through to her lounge, flicking on the lights with a smack of her head against the switch. Tiredly, she flopped down onto the sofa, and downed half her mug in one go before flicking on the television. Like every other Sunday, there Soap Opera omnibus on almost every channel, so she flicked to the least annoying for some background noise and ate her breakfast with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Time was, when she'd first settled down here some months prior, that she'd have been beside herself simply for a familiar living space and some alone time; nowadays, she couldn't help but feel bored.

She finished the last of her Bacon as some catfight broke out on her programme, and she chuckled half-heartedly before, finally, picking up her phone from the coffee table, where it had been left charging as usual. It was packed with the usual guff, along with a long-winded, insubstantial message from her father that she only half read, and, at 8 o'clock, she finally gave in and decided to get some work done. Her office was a small space to the side of the flat, sequestered in what used to be a storage cupboard. (She liked how snug it was). The computer was some fancy, top-of-the-line garbage that a sales assistant had flogged her for far more than it was probably worth, and it booted quickly, bringing her face-to-face with a loudly flashing priority e-Mail notification which she promptly ignored. She'd had the like a few times before, and, frankly, it was too bloody early to deal with governmental bullshit.

The best part of an hour was spent doing some cursory research into an esoteric fire spell her dad had suggested she look at a few weeks ago. It took a few passwords she maybe shouldn't have had access to, but hey, payment was payment, and she came out of it with a new project to work on! That done, she took a moment to write out a decent reply to her dad before deciding she'd procrastinated enough. With a sigh, she opened up her e-Mail and, leaving the pop-up for last, began her daily review of the hundreds of job requests that regularly flooded her inbox. It was largely the usual: new magitech reactors needing an overseer, a couple of private live-fires, an experiment into the effect of pain on a Daeva's natural abilities from some new-age group in Tokyo (which was swiftly ignored), and a few British civil servants requesting her help on the security front, which she flagged up as potentials. (As unique as her Time Slip was, she always appreciated being recognised for her more standard talents). There was also a high-paying job as a stunt supervisor for a nearby film shoot, and the money seemed good, so she added that to the shortlist. Only after a good twenty minutes of this routine did she finally reach the end of the list and, with some reluctance, turn her attention to whatever the CIA wanted from her this time.

When she left her office, there was an uncharacteristically cheerful look on her face, and she hummed thoughtfully to herself as she made her second cup of tea that morning.

"Well, this should spice up my month."


@Helios J MearsNow, while I like the idea, there is a lot that is left vague at the same time, such as the mountain lab, the puppets, the experiments, etc. You can consider yourself accepted, but I would like those to be developed some more in the coming days so I as the GM can add it into the worldbuilding notes I'm trying to compile and so I have more of an idea as to what to do regarding Sango. As with the others, too, I'd like you to be a little more descriptive with his weaponry as well.


Firstly, thanks for accepting! I've been getting back into RP in general recently so I'm pretty excited for this one.

Would the elaborations on the soldiers, lab etc. be better off in the CS itself, or should I compile some background notes and send them over elsewhere? I'm happy to do either, of course, just want to make sure I have everything straightened out before I start :):).

Otherwise, looking forward to getting things on the road, and if anyone wants to talk character ties and such, just drop me a PM or @ me, I'm on UK time but I'm around most hours.


Takayuki Mekakushi




All things considered, Taka may have acted his part a little too well, if the sheer terror radiating off Ami-chan was any indication. His mind raced as he considered the last few moments, even as Rashiku-kun prepared to strike, and young Akira's Wood Jutsu stretched his floorboards into thick, protective branches. The test had gone well, that much was for certain.

The first thing he noted was that all three Genin had fallen for his ploy hook, line and sinker. A problem? Yes, certainly. If they were so easily duped, he would need to instil a proper sense of perception in them. The second was that they were all adaptable. The young Senju had impressed the man almost immediately. Despite his youth and seemingly kind temperament, he'd reacted to the man's perceived betrayal almost immediately, and worked fast to ensure the failsafe couldn't be triggered. More importantly, he had trusted Rashiku to do the right thing. He had expressed unconditional faith in his teammate, and that was a quality that couldn't be undersold. Oh, there was a definite naiveté to the boy, undeniably, and that would need to be addressed sooner rather than later, but he showed real promise. Equally, Ami had surprised him. Regardless of the fear she was clearly wracked by, she'd thought fast and acted to restrict his movement. Another point in the team's favour for sure.

Truthfully, however, the target of this test had always been Rashiku. The boy from Mist had worried Taka from the moment he'd read his files. He would readily admit that he was a prejudiced man; un-allied ninja made him anxious at the best of times, and having them in the village had a habit of setting him on edge. It was only natural that a little of that would extend even to a supposed refugee. And despite all the odds being against him, Rashiku was pulling a surprise from under his belt right before Takayuki's eyes. Speaking of which...

"Godspeed Flicker!" He released Ami, hands blurring into seals even as Rashiku hurtled towards him. The electrified Surge Chakra that cloaked his body suddenly pulsed, drawing itself into his body at blinding speed. A piercing wail filled Taka's head as his perception slowed, and he grimaced at the sensation of his every muscle tensing to their limits. With time slowed to a tenth of its usual speed, he grabbed Ami by the hand and pulled her well clear of the charging genin, plopping her onto the sofa and draping one of his couch blankets over her. In the same movement, he surged back to where Rashiku hovered, moving impressively quickly even at this pace. Deftly, and taking care not to damage the boy's hand, he took the sword by the hilt, moved to the scabbard and sheathed it. As the second neared its end, Taka's hand blurred through another set of seals, and he exhaled a small sphere of green flame at the encased vase, which would be incinerated when his perception normalised. Finally, he stepped in front of Rashiku, and as the moment resumed and the boy seemed to lurch forward, he kneeled low and caught him in an easy embrace.

The Godspeed Shroud dissipated with a fizzling crack, and the smile on Takayuki's face was nothing short of blinding.

"I am so unbelievably proud of you all!" He held Rashiku for a moment, before gently setting him down on the floor and handing the sheathed weapon back to him. "I expected good things when I called you here this morning, but this was beyond my wildest hopes!" He jogged over to the couch and plopped down next to Ami, brimming with wild energy. Still, he offered a kind smile. "I'm so sorry for scaring you like that, Uzumaki-san, truly I am, but you responded brilliantly! I wasn't sure you were cut out for this lifestyle, but you proved me wrong." His tone had softened for a moment, but brightened again as he addressed Akira.

"A wonderful display of resourcefulness there, Akira!" He pointed to the mound of ash where the vase and wooden shell had sat. "The vase was filled with dud tags, so we were in no danger, but you assessed the situation flawlessly and moved to neutralise the threat. Full marks!" His energy dulled, then, and he looked, with some remorse, to Rashiku.

"Rashiku, I will admit I didn't trust you when you first arrived. I have something of a problem with foreign nin." He scratched his head sheepishly. "I decided I needed to be sure that you were who you said you were; that I could let you onto this team, let you into mine and the other's hearts safely." He levelled an earnest gaze at Rashiku, his smile soft, now. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you. Seeing that sword aimed at my heart made me prouder than I think I've ever been. Welcome home."

He stood, and addressed the team. "As my sudden change in demeanour may have suggested, I wasn't ever planning to kill Ami-chan. Nor was I ever going to blow us all up. This, students, was the true Genin test, and you all aced it with flying colours. There are, however, two lessons I would like you all to remember. Consider them the first thing I'll teach you as your captain: Always look underneath the underneath. Motivations are complex, and no-one's intentions are ever straightforward in this world of ours. Had any of you stopped to think, you may well have realised that things weren't what they seemed to be." He paused, and regarded each Genin in turn.

"Secondly, is that above anyone - your families, your friends, even the Hokage - you must always trust in your teammates. I meant what I said a moment ago. There must not be any secrets between a team for it to function healthily. In combat and in life, you'll be relying on each other to survive, so extend that same trust to each other as the others extend to you." He sighed, a wistful glimmer in his eyes. "I understand that you all will be hesitant to trust me after what I just put you through, but I hope, dearly, that one day you'll be able to put that very same faith in me as well.

"I have your schedules for the next week ready to go, but before that, if any one of you feels the need to get something off your chest - If you have even the silliest, most inconsequential question, please, please ask me now."
He sat back down in his armchair, then, and reached into the pocket of his uniform jacket, pulling out three wooden medals that he threw to the Genin. Each one was engraved with the kanji of their names. "I engraved those this morning for you as graduation presents. Consider them my first step towards making up to the three of you." His smile settled, finally: a small, reminiscent, but decidedly hopeful thing.

© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet