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 Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 8:59 pm
Area:
Lines: 0
Unused Lines: 0
Chakra: 1000
Titan Speed: 0
Titan Strength: 0
Chakra Affinities:
Main: Water
Sub 1: Lightning
Sub 2: Earth
Custom Jutsus:
N/A
Ninjutsu: 100
Taijutsu: 5
Genjutsu: 0
Marks / Seals / Kekkei genkai:
N/A
Missions:
S: 0
A: 0
B: 0
C: 0
D: 0
Learned Jutsus:
S
A
B
All B-Rank Water, Earth, Lightning, and Neutral Ninjutsu
C
All C-Rank Water, Earth, Lightning, and Neutral Ninjutsu
D
All D-Rank Taijutsu, Water, Earth, Lightning, and Neutral Ninjutsu
E
All E-Rank Taijutsu, Genjutsu, Water, Earth, Lightning, and Neutral Ninjutsu
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 9:04 pm
Each step was taken lightly, a sort of distant afterthought in the movements of the man, each step drifting slowly upon the misted road. The light of the sun barely even touched the clothing he wore, even less his skin. The white hood was up, hiding his face so easily and he waited, something in him sudden still stance. Something familiar was near, and yet it felt wrong. The man shook his head mentally, trying to place where this feeling had been stemming from for quite a while now, the whole process of this making him wonder. He had begun to feel it a little time ago, barely a day, when he let his thoughts drift to the one woman that had survived his encounters, Ayame. Her name and face had drifted so easily to his mind, like they had been beckoned by his spirit, conjured by his link to her, which was strange in a way.
The white hooded man continued his gentle walk, the paved stones of his path knit tight together, gray stone along with gray stone, the ever so present mist rolling at his feet, and the gray skies strangely illuminated with a shade of white. His eyes, beautiful snow white crystals, seemed to observe and catalogue everything around him, but the cowl hid them from a normal person's view, so therefore no one could see the myriad of emotions, each taking a particular gleam in his eyes, each reflecting something different within him. His body stilled, the mist circling, as he closed his eyes, thinking. His steps echoed in the air, almost tasting like anticipation, but what was there to anticipate? It was a simple, small and worthless note, something that in normal circumstances, he wouldn't even bother to let himself be even a mite concern on his mind. It was written on a normal parchment, but the ink itself seemed to strike out to the man more then anything else... blood, the curved letters reminding him of something, or rather someone. A sort of smile came on her pale white lips, and he knew that this was dangerous, something to be on guard from, although he didn't feel that way physically. A sort of all consuming flicker resided in him, and he shook again, remembering that one night, that loss of control, that sudden taste of reality and perhaps even bliss he had gotten. He hadn't seen her much since, more due to his fault then hers. His new... team took a lot away from him, even his freedom. It was getting harder and harder to keep himself distanced from them, from their hopes and dreams. Was he that weak, to flex and break under human emotion, to let his control slip so far? Did he truly not learn his lesson, his pledge?
Something seemed to spark in him a sort of life, a sort of animation, a last bout, as his body recalled with accurate feelings and pictures what they had nearly done. But for an odd reason, he wanted more of that, and yet, it was nothing he could touch or reach anymore. Chastity. He had looked into the Jashin religion, none too nicely either, but he had looked in and found several things which made his need for control even stronger. His hands still did not drift to his hood, to remove it, to let the world see, as his steps took him down the stone path, each movement elegant in a way, the art of a true shinobi, his gliding rhythm making him feel… in control and safe. But something in his heart, in his mind, tugged trying to lead him astray, to a different direction.
In a way, he wanted to amuse himself, and let himself be guided, by this pulling sensation, but yet, something in him rescinded, not wanting to follow something so vague, so unknown, that his steps actually stopped for a moment. But he had decided on a course of action, and thus he would do it, as his body shifted to walk to the left, away from the road, and his body fading with a swoosh of the mist and cloak, disappearing, becoming invisible to the naked eye. A ghost, some might think, or an alluring spirit, but the truth was that he was a simply a shinobi, one meant to kill and one meant to disguise himself; blend as one in the world. Simple and yet so complicated at the same time.
Steps drifted in the forest, the grass moving with the slight disturbance he was created, his mark left on the eternal forest for bare moments before it faded, the wild incivility of nature dominating once more. Something pulled and called, something that made his body shake all the slightly. His mind was bemused; there was nothing on this planet that could do this to him, except for one person and she had gone away on an exam, and he was pretty sure it wasn't over yet.
His eyes seemingly glazed over for a moment, recalling with perfect accuracy her face, and her touch, the way her silk like voice flowed over him, her velvet lips on his skin. Once again, his body shivered, and his mind trembled, the very edges of his self control seemingly fading for an instant. His eyes blinked, and his walk continued, he had stopped unconsciously, but now he would continue, to reach that place. It must be connected to her somehow for his body to feel so strongly about it.
Since that day the man wasn't sure what it was, but he always felt it when she was near. A bond of sorts? Did their loss of control create something unique between them? Or was the shinobi simply tricking himself, allowing his heart to dominate his senses; allowing it to cast fallacy and deceit on his person? He shook again, as he wondered where she had been lately. He had missed seeing that familiar flick of black and that feeling of her eyes on his back. Yes, he had missed it in a strange way, the gestures seemingly routine now, and without them he felt complacent and unworthy. Had he grown to depend on her so much that he would be impaired at her eventual death, or her leaving him? What a strange, and novel, concept, one that seemed to tear that the very fabric of what made Ryota himself! He could not be dependent on her, no, nor could he even like her! It would not work, nothing would work! She was chaste, he was not. She was following the words of her God; he was following those of his past. Too different, nothing could stem from one to the other; nothing could be set right. Yet with a strange look back to that night, he knew, he knew she wanted it in a way. The way she had been… he was at least something to her, if not an intrigue, something to try and piece together. His lips twitched upwards and his body stopped, as a small laugh echoed too quietly in the green forest, as he thought of these things. These strange questions and answers he held, due to her and her influence on his life, all of them twisting and twirling, sometimes even incomprehensible to himself, it was strange to him indeed.
With a look, barely perceptible that he moved due to that voluminous hood, his decision was made. His hands drifted out of his sleeves, visible, and they went up to the hood, and pulled it down, gently, softly, letting his face be seen. Eyes of snow looked around, and with a sudden movement, he was off. The mist swirling behind him mixing with the flying edge of his white cloak; snow white locks drifting in the wind; his face pressured by it; his features turned into a cold mask. That pull… it called him and he ran to it; a beat that seemed to pull his body closer and closer to it. He felt the hurry; the need to get there now.
His hand twitched, ready to take out a weapon if needed, in case something bad had happened. Lucky for him he could fit everything in that voluminous cloak of his, not like anyone would notice His mind watched through his eyes, taking in every detail that he eyes could, everything that could serve him later on. He waited, all too gently, and he arrived, his steps stopping suddenly with a crash as he saw what happened. She was lying there, not moving, not even breathing... He walked towards her, slowly, carefully, cautiously, wondering what happened. The small crystal clear pond of water was at the edge of a small fall, the current stopping it's surface travels there, but rather continued underground. His eyes, however, were focused on the figure lying beside the pond as he approached it, cautiously and with a little reservation.
What if it was a trick?
[132]
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 9:08 pm
But he believed, somewhere inside of him, that it was not a trick. Something beckoned him to her, and he followed. Now, without protestation nor amusement, as his knees were placed not too far from her hand, his mind began to trail off.
That flicker, that thing that beckoned him, was it his own senses, his own feeling, maybe even a bond to this woman?
Ryota was unsure of what brought him here, but his eyes were now focused on the female in front of him. Glancing at her form with an apprasive gaze, he tried to judge the reason of just laying there. His mind had difficulty comprehending why she would be just there, still willingly, thus he turned to his eyes, to give him clues about her condition. Her skin was white, not the same pale albino she usually had, but a thick, dead white. He shivered; he was afraid, just for a moment, to figure out what that truly meant. Her body had several marks on it, her shirt was pretty torn. He knew she had been in a fight. That just made him quiver again, he was truly afraid now. But she might be sleeping it off, right? Ryota should try to wake her, stir her up... yeah, he should.
''Ayame... wake up.'' he said, starring at her pale face, watching to see a twitch of amusement, or irritation, a slight muscle shift, a give-away of her playing dead.
His eyes still continued to stare, even as she did not move at all. What was wrong with her? Couldn't he tell that it was him, that he was the one trying to wake her up? She didn't have to pretend anymore, he was safe for her to wake with, right? Why would she doubt him now, when he could have finished her off earlier?
''Ayame... wake up.'' he said a little more forcefully, his voice coming out much stronger now.
Yes, yelling would wake her up, it woke up all hunters unless they were two things: in a deep sleep, or dead, but that was impossible, she couldn't die, right? No. She wouldn't, she was too stubborn for that. Of course she was! It was all a mirage! Ryota didn't need to worry at all! She would be up and giving him those strange looks of hers in no time. He didn't have to worry at all. The man gave a slight snarl, as his eyes started to glare at her face, boring in it by now, a sort of distant anger flashing in his eyes, suddenly given life by the man. This was not acceptable; she would not trick him, an shinobi, into thinking that she was dead. She had to be alive, there was no other option, for he knew her, she wouldn't die so foolishly and vainly, right?
''Ayame! Get up!'' Ryota said, hissing through his teeth this time, extreme anger showing up. He was now irritated, no way would a female that was not inured in his arts would be able to trick her; nothing would stop him from waking her! Nothing, nothing at all, she was his to waken and he would do so.
His hands reached to her shoulders, moving from where they had been clasped together on his lap, and he felt it. Her skin was cold, which gave him a sudden shiver, and he felt it, it was hard as well, stiff, even as he shook her. She could not be dead, not yet. His lips twisted into a sort of snarl, as he tried one last time to wake her up, but it didn't work at all. Ryota shook some more, even as she leaned forward, letting his head fall onto her shirt covered chest, he knew it was over. His lips met her own; cold; unmoving; dead. His body shivered again, not because of the cold, but by the undeniable fact that was presented to him, one that he would not be able to reverse, nor accept. That fact, he would deny, and deny, until she was alive again, and he would be able to touch her again and even kiss her. He shook even more now, as his body moved much more, shifting her dead weight onto his lap and his forehead on hers. His eyes closing gently with a flutter, and he went still for a few moments, remembering those words; words that he wanted to speak to her. But they would not come to his lips, those words, as they struggled in his throat, trying to tear him apart to escape his rigid self control. That control was trying to snap itself back into place, unwilling to let go of him, unwilling to let him free. His body refused to deal with it, and began to shake all the slightly, as he delved into himself, trying to find his cause.
A small probe made surprised him and he gave a small gasp, the oblivious man missing the obvious pain within it. Ryota shook more now, unstill, as he lifted, letting her body drop to the ground as he took two struggling steps back. Those tumbling steps backward made him fall against a tree, he himself never feeling the rough bark of it as he delved once again into himself, trying to find out the cause of his loss of control. What did he feel about this woman that would drive him to such lengths to awaken? What did he feel about this female that nearly killed him, and one that had denied him when he had let it all go for her? Ryota grunted as he collapsed to his knees again, this time with a sort of gasp, his body shaking. What was this emotion tearing through him, destroying him in ways he had though hardened, closed? These destructive feelings, they were not under his control, and with a start, he realized that they never were. He wanted to speak all too badly now, and he knew that once he started, he would be unable to stop. Ryota’s lips opened, and the first tumbling word fell, and there he was, letting the lies go for a simple moment.
''I would have stood beside you, staying there for all time, would you have let me? Would have you liked it? Even then, I wouldn't have minded if you said no. Want it? I don't know. All I know, something is in our way and it took your death for me to break. I'm trying to find where I fit with you, so please tell me something... I want to know what makes you work, even as I was in your grasp, weak and useless, did you like that? Our line, where is it? Is this love or attraction and even then, do you want me? Or am I just a curiosity? Once again, there is something in our way, and I had to break before I knew. I'm still trying to find you, and you tell me nothing. Each day passes like the burning of a page and I always push it all away, even I still struggle to find my place with you. Just give me something Ayame... anything! Even as desperate as I am, I cannot help but just be mesmerized by you. I would do… several things for you. What is this feeling; once I waited so long for it? I would die for you, strangely, and yet, what have I become? One of them! The weak ones... maybe by saving you, I will save myself. Maybe, just maybe, this will be the last time Ayame''
Ryota’s body shook, even as his lips turned into a grimace, his face twisting, something changing, shifting. He stood up, and his eyes flashed, suddenly, with a spark that seemed too vicious to be real. His hands shook, even as he approached the... corpse. No, he could not call her that could not, would not. He landed on his knees again, and gave out a sound this time, one that surprised even him. A sob, a freaking sob tore through his throat, even as he lifted the body, placing it against him in a way, her chest to his, his head nestled in the crook of her neck. He shivered, the coldness getting to him, replacing her warmth. He wanted her back, and that feeling that he felt before flashed to life again, even as he simply held her against him.
Ryota was shaking some more, the stiffness of Ayame getting to him as well, he wanted her to enfold him, to bend and twist like water, another wave of that emotion hitting. He could feel it, too acute to him, too much onto him, tearing and destroying. That's when it happened. At the edge of his eye, it fell, wetly and salty on her body, and then he couldn't hold it back. It sounded like a howl of pain, loud and clear, animalistic and filled with agony. His small strength suddenly turned into a lot, as he held her so close to him, tightly, unwilling to let go of her anymore.
[125]
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