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School Days; PM to join
Topic Started: Nov 19 2008, 03:23 PM (263 Views)
At Any Cost
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Face down in the gutter, won't admit defeat

The revered Calligraphy School of the Land of Fire had something of a reputation. For generations the place had seen some of the greatest artists and minds of the ninja world pass through its ornate gates. As far as the upper crust of the aristocracy and hell of a lot of up and coming merchants were concerned the place was the first last and only word on culture. Even with its relatively modest size the place boasted one of the largest private libraries it was possible to find outside of a hidden village or a capital city.

The old calligraphy academy was, she had to admit it, a truly first class front. The place had been built with funds generously donated from the Fire Daimyo's own coffers. For as long as it had been teaching sniveling artists to put brush to scroll it had been sheltering ANBU recruits and serving as a staging ground for missions into almost every country on the map. Of course it was hardly the only such facility Konoha could brag about. Every shinobi nation worth its salt had a few safe houses lying around. It wasn't even the only one Kiri knew about.

It was just that the Mizukage, bless his withered black heart, felt like sending a message to the Land of Fire. Seika felt it was probably an especially short message, the kind with a lot of profanity and exclamation points. So here she was. With her hands intertwined behind her head Seika Uzumaki, the Mist's Walking Disaster, strolls nonchalant down the crowded main hall of the school.

"...alright, anybody not feeling particularly ballsy has about a minuet and a half left to run."
[RPGData:335|2|-3|34|5|5|21|3|Chaos Bow|None|Ranger|23|None|None|3|2|0|0|None|1|None|None]The hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradle
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At Any Cost
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Face down in the gutter, won't admit defeat

As the ANBU demolishes her clones Seika finishes her sequence and her hands slam together hiding this looming Cheshire rictus of a grin behind a single white knuckled ram seal. A ripple, not a metaphorical ninja-sense tingling thing here but a physical tangible ripple, of chakra ebbs across the surface of the water and away from her. Then as eagle-mask lands scant feet away from where those clones were vaporized an instant ago there comes, through the water, a sound like little tinkling bells. Under the water at the masked nin's feet glowing lines etch themselves into a discarded sword, opening up hairline fractures and letting out little ringing notes.

The next instant the sword vanishes into the water. Then, with a thunderous crash, the water vanishes into this monstrous vertical torrent. Then the sky vanishes into a cloud of shattered starlight. These little humming streaks of light, like fire flies in the night or maybe kids with candles running around at a festival, fly corkscrew paths into the heavens. Each one of them a little piece of razor sharp chakra coated shrapnel.

Somewhere in there eagle-mask vanishes into a cloud of of blood, and mist, and gristle.

As the chunnin close on her Seika stands on the water's surface holding that ram seal and that grin. She doesn't move an inch. Then a pitch black sword is sent flying backwards into the foreward most of them and she's still standing there. The poor bastard collapses to his knees, gurgling and sputtering some bodily fluids best left unexamined. She doesn't move an inch. The group gets close enough to be within a reasonable guess of where her reach should be and she's still standing there. Then the new lead chunnin has a shard of inky metal shoved down his throat and pulled out through his shoulder. In an instant she's still standing there as they get close enough to try and use a little taijutsu. Then she's behind them with a fresh sword held in each hand and two more of Konoha's own falling to their knees. They clutch at their chests, maybe trying to pull back some unspooling piece of plumbing, or maybe hold it in in the first place, or maybe just wondering when the fuck that happened.
[RPGData:335|2|-3|34|5|5|21|3|Chaos Bow|None|Ranger|23|None|None|3|2|0|0|None|1|None|None]The hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradle
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Pierce
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As the three chunin charged Ou, he couldn't help but try and guess what their age was. There were two boys who seemed to be in their early teens, one has shoulder length hair that was tinged a golden brown, and the other wore a mop of short black hair. They were both so young, and they looked as though they would have a good appetite. The third ninja was a middle aged gentleman. with a neatly combed topee, and a rather portly figure. Based on his appearance, he would most likely have been married with several children who may have middle management jobs. Seemed like prime candidates for business.

Bringing surf lasher to bear, he knocked the trio aside, taking care to use minimal force. he probably broke a few ribs, but that came with the job. The group flew into a tree and collapsed in a heap. They would be fine, and they could have their 'glorious battle' stories to tell their grandkids about the evil mist ninja. Jumping over to the crumpled mass, he quickly slipped a card from his shop into a small stack of business cards that the middle aged man had in his purse. He then whistled for Ed and waited for Seika to do her thing.


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Face down in the gutter, won't admit defeat

Seika takes a step forward and slams a knee into the head of one of the crippled chunin. It wasn't like he was in any condition to fight really. Its just that as he falls face first into Ou's little lake she can't help but think that every little bit helps. Her arms blur forward across her chest and two more black swords are sent flying. They wheel through the air like absurd discusses. They ricochet of the water's surface like skipping stones. They cut into two more chunin like band saws.

In total there are three of them left when they finally mount an attack on her. They lunge out of the water like champions pouncing a practice dummy. Their weapons, gleaming in the sunlight, are poised and ready to strike. Their opponent is, at least now, unarmed. For a moment it looks like they'll succeed, bring their fallen comrades some measure of vengeance and justice. At least for a handful of seconds anyway.

It's just that there not the only ones rising out of the water. Pulling a discarded Set sword out of the depths with them, two identical red heads tear away from the water's surface behind Seika's assailants. The one to her right traces the sword up and down the line of the poor kunoichi's spine. The one to her left grows a black horn as one of the water clones rams a sword through the back of his head. The one in the middle, well that one's lucky, he only goes flying a good six feet skyward as Seika slams the heel of her hand into the bottom of his chin. When he lands he's breathing faintly, but breathing.

A few seconds later it occurs to Seika that no one's actively trying to kill her anymore. That sadistic whip-chord grin of hers falls off her face like an old time mariner falling off the edge of the map. Without a word, her hands move listlessly through a sequence of halfhearted seals and across the artificial lake little eddies start to pull. The bodies, Those with pulses, those without, and the various parts thereof, start to move together, and slowly congregate into a single disgusting heap of fleshy detritus.

Seika's traditional deadpan slowly sours into a frown as she watches the lesser surf lashers pile corpse on corpse but she doesn't look away. This what her job. She knew exactly what it entailed. Some people cleaned up horse shit for a living. Others took care of the dead. Seika's job just involved a little more wet-work than most.
[RPGData:335|2|-3|34|5|5|21|3|Chaos Bow|None|Ranger|23|None|None|3|2|0|0|None|1|None|None]The hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradle
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Pierce
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Ou shuffled quietly over to the spot where Seika stood grimacing. Seika was effective at what she did, and she tended to be very enthusiastic about her work, Ou couldn't help but hope that she would at least let these people die cleaner deaths. Being crushed by waves and ripped apart by thousands of tiny shards of black steel were exceptionally terrifying and painful as far as deaths go. Despite his mild mannered ways, he had witnessed more than his share of deaths.

"Seika... you should tone it down a bit... these are people too." He hadn't meant for it to sound holier than thou, but it kinda' came out that way despite his best efforts to strain it out as P.R. as he could manage, it still sounded like he was preaching. He knew he would regret his statement in a few seconds. Looking away sharply, he offered her a hand to aid her onto Mr. Ed's back. They would make better time if they used horse power.
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Face down in the gutter, won't admit defeat

"...were people," Seika corrects him stressing the past tense as she ties about a dozen or so swords into a loose bundle with some medkit bandaging. That's about all the reaction Ou gets out of her. It's not like he's telling her anything she hasn't heard before. Seika slings her satchel over one shoulder and accepts his help getting onto the venerated summon's back.
Edited by At Any Cost, Nov 30 2008, 08:57 PM.
[RPGData:335|2|-3|34|5|5|21|3|Chaos Bow|None|Ranger|23|None|None|3|2|0|0|None|1|None|None]The hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradleThe hand that rocks the cradle
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Pierce
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Ou sighed gently and then kicked his heels into the side of his summon. "Well... hmph... never mind, lets head home." He was still getting used to his colleagues and their 'unique' attitudes towards life in general. Not to say they weren't growing on him, but he was fairly normal as far as the Seven Swordsmen went, and normal got you trouble in this outfit, especially when it came in the form of remorse. Ed took of at blinding speed, back to the land of water. Back to his home.
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"Money won't buy happiness, but it will pay for the salaries of a large research staff to study the problem"

- Bill Vaughan


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amour
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Scotlands Number 2

A set of two ANBU passed by the old place on there rounds around the village. Sensing something was amiss inside, they walked in. The scene before them was a horrific one. How could an attack like this go unnoticed? How could no one have seen something going on? The Hokage must know about this as soon as possible. They picked up the bodies and rush off to drop of the bodies as well as inform the Hokage of what has went on inside her village.
Who are you to JUDGE the life i live?
I know im not
Perfect-and i don't live to be
but before you start
poining fingers
make sure your hands are clean.
-bob marely
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