Everywhere and Nowhere; Everyone yet No One...

[☆ F ☆]

OOC: This thread is for Masakuni only. Please, any and everyone else, do not interfere!

---

Talismans, talismans everywhere. Just like in your dream, they were plastered across the walls, hanging from the sides, on the floor, and on every other inanimate object one comes in contact with. Just like in your dream, each talisman was designed in a similar yet unique way, so that one could establish their similarity by the overall design, yet understand its difference in that each kanji, found within a drawn, black circle, did indeed mean something different. They were the same…yet they were not. The careful eye would discern this, as the talisman’s size usually never exceeded a few inches in diameter.

Regardless.

Here you are, in an abandoned village, not sure as to how you arrived. You seemingly come to standing in the middle. The day is calm; it is morning. A small breeze floats on through the village. Several huts exist around you, but all appeared boarded off and abandoned; not a sign of live can be found for miles away, save you of course. Finally, the only other odd thing outside of the deadness of this village were the seals.

They were everywhere.

And just like in your dreams, you have to pick one. You KNOW you do. Or else it will come…

Well, go on...hurry!

[Not Masakuni]

-Sigil Dreams

Shiro came to, in a place familiar yet strange. He had stood here, framed in the darkness of the small huts and their shadows, dust swirling in the wake of his presence, yet only in the sourceless light of a dream. Everywhere around him, talismans hung from every possible surface. It was like some sort of demented temple, where the priest had let his fear of the supernatural consume him. Each of the talismans bore a simple mark, a small dark circle, with a kanji within. Shiro turned in a slow circle, regarding his surroundings.

No two the same.

Indeed, each talisman bore on it a different character. The number of different words present in the village was staggering. It could well be a whole story, for all he knew. However, right now, he needed to get out. He remembered that from his dreams. He needed to escape, before horror he couldn't seem to remember took him. It was no good trying to find a way out in the village. He quickly turned on his heels, scanning the kanji for the right one. Dozens of word jumped out at him, but there was only one he wanted at the moment.

Escape.

It seemed the most logical choice, to him. It jumped out at him, hanging off of the roof above his head as he swept his gaze across it. It was almost identical to those around it, but it seemed his only salvation. He reached out, his heart beginning to beat in his chest. Whatever was coming for him, he didn't want it to find him. What he needed the most, in this moment, was escape. He needed freedom. He narrowed his thoughts into a razor-like focus onto that point as he grasped the paper talisman, pulling it free from the hut. “I hope this works...”

[/blockquote]

[suzaku]

Stage One: Begin!

When Shiro seized the talisman, he could feel it; certainly he was no stranger to the ominous force that would seemingly materialize from the black ink. It was a loathsome weight that tugged at his arm and pressed upon his chest; it was an unrelenting tension that begged to steal the soul from the man before he dared separate himself from the worn parchment.

And in the same instant that such a presence made itself known, it would vanish; so, too, would Shiro, seized by some strange black magic: his body wholly swallowed by an unseen beast.

__________

Though it was no more than a second, Shiro would find that he no longer stood amongst an endless sea of talismans. Should he set his eyes upon the land before him, he would come to find himself in the grassy meadows some several kilometers east of the village he was once in. Directly to his north, a thin dirt trail stretched roughly 20 meters into the distance before forking into three separate paths. The destination of each path, though looming in the horizon, were hinted at with a foreboding mark etched into a stone alongside each fork of the road.

From east to west they read: FIRE; WATER; WIND.

It was his choice to make, though he would have to be prompt: a darkness was swelling behind him, and though distant now, its malefic intent began to gradually ebb upon the land Shiro occupied. Were he indecisive—should he hesitate—he would come face to face with damnation incarnate.

[Not Masakuni]

-Consumption Transfer

Rip.

His fingers closed around the simple talisman. Immediately, it was upon him; a sense of oppressive energy, spreading up his arm, carrying with it a foul weight that dragged at his flesh and threatened to absorb him. He cursed, even as it swallowed him whole, taking hold of him and dragging him off his feet. He felt wrong, as though he was simultaneously stretched paper-thin and crushed into a single point. His mind went blank in that inexplicable moment, and he lost all sense of time and place.

Pop.

When Shiro's mind cleared, he found himself standing on a sparse trail of dirt. In the distance, he could see the village he had just stood in, a moment before. There was no time to contemplate his inexplicable transmission, however; it was drawing near. Though unseen, it made its presence known irregardless, pressing on the atmosphere itself with baleful intentions. Without hesitation he raced down the path, coming to the fork. Three choices, three paths. Three elements. There was no time to contemplate them or their meaning. He simple choose.

He needed freedom. He needed escape. He wanted to run like the wind, to become the wind itself and fly away from this place. Without really contemplating it, he turned down the western fork marked with the character for Wind, his feet beating a trail of dust up behind him. Every muscle in his body was tense, his senses stretched taut as he sought to keep one step ahead of the unspeakable enemy behind him. He knew nothing of it, only that every fiber of his being rejected the idea of encountering it. He hoped that he had chosen wisely...

[/blockquote]

[suzaku]

For several meters—perhaps 10, perhaps 20—Shiro would follow a winding dirt path unperturbed; he would find that the darkness had retreated, and the damnation which hung stagnant over his shoulders had faded: though not entirely gone, Shiro would find that it was largely ignorable unless he came to a stop or hesitated along his path.

Soon, as the man came upon the horizon, he would spy a meadow whose lush grass danced carelessly in the wind. As he grew closer to this meadow, he would undoubtedly realize that, though it looked docile from afar, the gentle breeze which swept through the meadow was anything but gentle. A ferocious twister spiraled at the center of the meadow, its center eerily unmoving and its crown wildly shifting in a wide, circular motion.

Should Shiro closely observe the twister, he would notice the wind moved at an incredible pace, and appeared to condense itself into natural blades: as the nearby grass and rock were lifted from the soil and into the twister's swirling chaos, they were promptly shredded into numerous pieces, as though a legion of samurai had drawn their katana upon them.

In the center of this twister, mysteriously undisturbed by the raging destruction mere meters away, a talisman not unlike those from the village hovered, glaring teasingly at Shiro. It invited him to claim it; it dared him to claim it. Could he claim it, without being torn asunder by the raging winds?

[Not Masakuni]

-Hands Unseen

Shiro's feet carried him along the dirt, leaving behind the sense of darkness that threatened to consume him in a toothy maw of fear. He shook his head, trying to shake out the shivers that continued to run up his spine, like residual pulses of a dying battery. The path wound ahead of him lazily, betraying the ominous nature of his voyage. Before long, he felt his steps slowing, just enough so that he could catch the breath that he should not have lost in the first place. He took a moment to inspect his surroundings.

Whoosh.

Wind, just as he had chosen. It was a sort of bizarre natural anomaly, a freak of beautiful nature in an inexplicable world. A twister of air, visible only in the currents of soil and grass it carried with it, was swirling in a lazy circle, bending the stalks of grass in an elegant circle. No, perhaps not. Not lazy. Closer inspection revealed his folly. The winds became drastically stronger as they came closer to the centre of the dervish, being ripped into shreds by wind so focused and strong that it simply could not be natural. And there, defying gravity in the core of the death-trap, a single talisman.

Best to avoid it all together.

He pulled on the twin forces of the physical and the spiritual, co-mingling them until they were something else entirely. He used this chakra, allowing it to flow out of him and into the earth as he formed hand seals. It rushed into the earth, twisting soil into sand, even as his own fortified sands began to leak out of his gourd. In the undisturbed centre of the whirlwind, sand would rise up out of the earth, taking the form of grasping hands that sought to wrap themselves around the talisman, nestling it in the grip of soft particles.

Shiro didn't stop there, layering the sand under his control within the whirlwind, forming a sphere of protective, compacted sand around the talisman, as thick around as a full-grown man. He drew the sand towards himself, using his dominion over sand to pull it out of the whirlwind as fast as he could. Hopefully, the thick shield of sand he layered around the talisman would allow him to pull it out of the wind before it was stripped from his control. If he was successful, his fingers would quickly plunder the orb of sand, even as it receded from whence it came, his fingers wrapping around the sought-after paper strip.

SPOILER: Click to show

Suna Nezumitori (Sand Entrapment)

[/u]
Rank: D [x4] (2 Turns)
Type: Offensive / Trapping / Saton Kekkei Touta
Range: See special!
Handseals: Yes.
Chakra: Low
Special: Range of entrapment and number of targets that can be captured at one time depends on the user's 'Sand Dominion' rank. When first learned, a target(s) can be bound for 1/2 a turn, plus an additional half-a-turn for a maximum 5 turn binding.

• D: 2 targets / Very Low Chakra surge to escape
  
• C: 4 targets / Low Chakra surge
  
• B: 6 targets / Mid Chakra surge
  
• A: 8 targets / High Chakra surge to escape
  
• S: 10 targets / Very High Chakra surge to escape

Description: As its name implies, the sand entrapment technique allows the user to use the sand along the ground or within soil to shoot up and attempt to ensnare the victim’s lower body as tightly as possible. Quick moving, the main advantage of this jutsu is that it requires the user can identify the target so that their sand can react.
Domain: Saton. Saton Ryouuken 'D'.[/spoiler]
[/justify][/blockquote]

[suzaku]

Stage One: Complete!

It did not happen when the earthen hands gripped the talisman; it did not happen when the great sand fists removed it from the spiraling winds; it happened when Shiro's own flesh stroked the worn parchment. Like before, it happened with little warning—the shinobi was seized by some unseen force and forcefully compressed until there was nothing to ever suggest he had even stood within the grassy meadows.

__________

When Shiro emerged, a mere second later, he would find himself within the rolling valleys of a distant mountain range. The air held a particular chill, and the wind had a dry, lifeless taste. Patches of snow were sprinkled in between tufts of dead grass, and a lone cloud danced across the early-afternoon sky.

Of course, the shinobi would find little time to appreciate his new scenery. As soon as he found time to balance himself, he'd bare witness to a piercing howl, and were he slow to react, he'd fall victim to a pair of razor-sharp claws digging into the flesh of his back. A small pack of wolves—three in total—had taken to the man quickly, and their leader lunged at his back, a mere two meters from his back. Its partners awaited, moving to either side, snarling hungrily.

[Not Masakuni]

-Lupine Counterstrike

Success.

Shiro's hands wrapped around the talisman, the sand around it dispersing into his gourd and back to the earth he drew it from. Immediately, he felt everything shift, as though his centre of gravity was being pulled up from his stomach and out of his arm. Space twisted around him again, and everything disappeared from his mind for an unmeasurable moment. When he came to again, everything was different. The air was thinner, colder. Stale, somehow. Hostile, even.

Not alone.

He turned his head slightly, eyes catching sight at the beast leaping at him. He had expected it, the moment his senses began to tingle, and his muscle memory was guiding his hands up before he made the conscious decision, forming a single hand seal. Sand leaped from his gourd, forming a concave dome of tightly packed sand, held close to his body. It would hold back the beast, he hoped, turning it's momentum against it as it hit the equivalent of a brick wall.

Shiro would not be idle, however. He was moving, at the same time that the wolf was impacting his shield, drawing out his bowie knife. In a single deft motion, he would slam it back, blade out, into his shield. His sand, softened, would allow it to pass through with ease, subservient to his will as he allowed the shield to briefly slacken. His weapon, he hoped, would spear through the sand and slit open the throat of the one wolf, ending its life before it could recover from its collision with his wall. He withdrew the weapon, preparing for the other two to move...

SPOILER: Click to show

Equipment

Suna no Tate (Shield of Sand)

[/u]
Rank: D, C, B, A, S
Type: Supplementary / Defensive / Saton Kekkei Touta
Range: 0 - 5 meters
Handseals: Yes.
Chakra: See special!
Special: Size and chakra consumption of sand shield is directly proportionate to attack being blocked. Blocks attacks of equal rank learned in a 360 degree radius, as long as the user can see them coming. Shield requires only a single hand-seal to operate. Judge will determine whether fast enough attacks bypass the shield each time it’s used. Highest rank known determines the level of attacks blocked.
Description: Although appearing to be one of the most basic sand jutsu, Suna no Tate is a technique that soon evolves into the user’s most sacred defensive countermeasure. Always active, the shield that protects the user is formed from a large sand presence, and does so under its own will. When needed, the user can also use their own chakra to control the sand so that it can act as a barrier. Because the protection is reliant upon how quickly the user’s sand can respond, it is possible a fast enough ninja can bypass the sand and strike the user.
Domain: Saton. Saton Ryouuken.
[/spoiler]
[/justify][/blockquote]

[suzaku]

Stage Two: Underway!

Shiro's quick wits and willingness to allow his instincts to guide him saved his life; the wolf, unaccustomed to the power of the ninja, struck the shield of sand and bellowed a surprised bark before the sharp blade tore its throat and stole its voice. However, our hero would find that the wolf had brave and rash comrades: they would not wait for their brother to be slain before lunging upon the shinobi. As the sand spilled from his gourd and shielded his body, both beasts took after him, their paws bearing their rage and their wicked fangs glistening with glutton. Shiro would have to think fast, for these creatures would land upon him before their partner's lifeless husk struck the earth—were his wits enough to save him again?

__________

In the distance, far enough so that he was scarcely a silhouette amongst the rolling horizon, a stranger watched, wholly entertained by the scene unfurling before him. In his hand he gripped a three-pronged kunai, and upon that kunai's obsidian edifice was an all too familiar scrap of aged parchment...

[Not Masakuni]

-Comrade Breaker

There were others, of course. Shiro had expected that they would strike, but perhaps not so quickly. As he felt the faint resistance of the wolf's neck rending open under his blade, the other two would be flashing towards him, their claws extended and teeth shining with ravenous desire. He swore to himself, his hand abandoning his bowie knife into the sand as he brought them before him again, forming his sand, already present around him, into a compacted shield once more. Having only just slackened, the process would be near instantaneous, encasing him in an almost completely sealed egg of defence.

Thank Kami for that...

His hands did not stop moving; as the other two wolves struck his shield for a second time, he was running through another short chain of familiar hand seals. He couldn't afford continued engagement. Though the absolute defence of Saton was feared and renowned throughout the land, it was like every other ninja technique in the world: it consumed chakra. If relied on it too much here, he would find his reserves draining away from him before he knew it. Hands of sand would burst out of his shield, swiftly wrapping around the two beasts and holding them down, gripping them tightly and binding their limbs.

Shiro allowed himself a vicious smirk. They should be at his mercy, now. He bent to retrieve his knife, stepping towards the two captured beasts cautiously. Mere animals were no match for techniques honed to be used against superhuman flames and blades, against giants and shadow-men. The world of the ninja was fantastically dangerous, and each member was prepared for it. With quick, clean motions, he would sever the spinal cords of the animals, cutting into the soft column of nerves. He sheathed his weapon, hands held close to his chest in caution.

Wait, is that... On the horizon...?

SPOILER: Click to show

Suna no Tate (Shield of Sand)

[/u]
Rank: D, C, B, A, S
Type: Supplementary / Defensive / Saton Kekkei Touta
Range: 0 - 5 meters
Handseals: Yes.
Chakra: See special!
Special: Size and chakra consumption of sand shield is directly proportionate to attack being blocked. Blocks attacks of equal rank learned in a 360 degree radius, as long as the user can see them coming. Shield requires only a single hand-seal to operate. Judge will determine whether fast enough attacks bypass the shield each time it’s used. Highest rank known determines the level of attacks blocked.
Description: Although appearing to be one of the most basic sand jutsu, Suna no Tate is a technique that soon evolves into the user’s most sacred defensive countermeasure. Always active, the shield that protects the user is formed from a large sand presence, and does so under its own will. When needed, the user can also use their own chakra to control the sand so that it can act as a barrier. Because the protection is reliant upon how quickly the user’s sand can respond, it is possible a fast enough ninja can bypass the sand and strike the user.
Domain: Saton. Saton Ryouuken.

Suna Nezumitori (Sand Entrapment)[/u]
Rank: D [x4] (2 Turns)
Type: Offensive / Trapping / Saton Kekkei Touta
Range: See special!
Handseals: Yes.
Chakra: Low
Special: Range of entrapment and number of targets that can be captured at one time depends on the user's 'Sand Dominion' rank. When first learned, a target(s) can be bound for 1/2 a turn, plus an additional half-a-turn for a maximum 5 turn binding.

• D: 2 targets / Very Low Chakra surge to escape
  
• C: 4 targets / Low Chakra surge
  
• B: 6 targets / Mid Chakra surge
  
• A: 8 targets / High Chakra surge to escape
  
• S: 10 targets / Very High Chakra surge to escape

Description: As its name implies, the sand entrapment technique allows the user to use the sand along the ground or within soil to shoot up and attempt to ensnare the victim’s lower body as tightly as possible. Quick moving, the main advantage of this jutsu is that it requires the user can identify the target so that their sand can react.
Domain: Saton. Saton Ryouuken 'D'.[/spoiler]


[/justify][/blockquote]

[suzaku]

Stage Two: Complete!

With a half-muffled howl the final husk fell to the earth, and the immediate danger that had hung over Shiro's shoulders had faded; in a battle of instinct, man had overcome beast—such a thing was no mere feat!

"Bravo, bravo!" The voice came from the distance, where the silhouette from earlier had begun to grow more distinct; the shape of a man was now apparent, though his features were still hidden beneath a thinning veil of shadow, "an impressive display, young'un!"

As the darkness wavered, the silhouette took a describable form: a red haired man, looking to be in his later 30's, his body kissed with the decorations of battle and his flesh charred with the warmth of the sun. He wore a flak jacket that would have suggested he was Jounin, but a headband that signified his village was nowhere in sight. In his hands, he fondled a kunai which bore a talisman not unlike those Shiro had encountered earlier in the village.

"How'd you get here, young'un," he said, coming to a halt a few meters ahead of the shinobi, "visitors ain't somethin' we get much 'round here." A mischievous grin betrayed the man's thoughts; he knew how the shinobi had gotten here, the question was: did Shiro know?

[Not Masakuni]

-Phantom Queries

It is done.

Or, perhaps, it was not. Even as the jangling nerves of combat began to fade, his senses screamed at him a second time. This time, though, was different. This was base fear, the existential kind of dread that emerged from gazing upon something that alien to your understanding, something beyond the scope of your power or comprehension. He tensed, but resisted the urge to reach for his knife. He didn't want to impede hand seals should he need to form them quickly. He sucked in a deep breath, his lungs quivering slightly.

A human.

When the other began to speak, his image slowly resolving from within haze and shadow, Shiro nearly jumped out of his shoes. He managed, instead, to betray his nerves with only a twitching motion of the neck. Ever cautious, the Kusagakure shinobi examined the other man, taking in the details of his appearance. He scanned up and down his body, noting the red hair, the scars, the signs of distinguished age that suggested that he had just begun to leave his prime. He was dressed as a shinobi, one of high rank, but without any identifying marks or bands. In his hand, a strange kunai, bearing an intimately familiar talisman upon it.

Shit.

The blood paled from Shiro's face for a moment before he forced himself to be calm. “Thank you for your kindness,” He said, thoughts racing. “I was brought here by some kind of space-time ninjutsu... based on a talisman just like that one in your hands.” He didn't say it out loud, for risk of offending the man, but the implication that the man knew far more than he let on was obvious. He might have been the one responsible, even. Shiro felt the corner of his mouth lift in a slight smile. This was a challenge unheard of. It was far more interesting than another day roaming the forests...

[/blockquote]

[suzaku]

"Space-time, eh?" The man grinned, leveling his eyes on the stranger before him. "You sure it wasn't some Genjutsu?" He began to twist his fingers around the kunai, eventually causing the weapon to spin between his middle three fingers. After a moment of silence—not long enough for Shiro to voice an answer to the man's inquiry—he faced the weapon's tip at the shinobi's chest. "Who's to say this kunai isn't an illusion?"

The man, whose chin was blanketed with a thin stubble, stifled a chuckle, but held the kunai firmly at his new friend's chest. His thumb traced across the talisman wrapped around the blade's handle several times, though unlike when Shiro himself had touched the parchment of talisman's prior, the newcomer would not abruptly vanish.

"Who's to say you aren't just dreaming?" he said, pulling the weapon away and sheathing it in a pouch on his hip. For now, the stranger fell silent, offering Shiro time to gather his thoughts and entertain his questions.

[Not Masakuni]

-Illusions In Technicolor

Illusion.

Perhaps. The tip of the weapon, touching his chest lightly, felt real. Of course, that was the point of Genjutsu. It was surely possible that he was trapped within someone's illusion. There was simply no way to be sure. There was never a way to be sure. Who was to know that he didn't sit in a darkened room, unconscious, sustained by machines and lit by the glow of soft screens, his life little more than the machinations of hallucinogenic drugs that kept him sedate? Perhaps every living human being was immersed in illusions, and not one of them truly living.

“I suppose this could be Genjutsu,” He said with a diffident shrug. “But if that's so, there's no way to tell. If it is so, this,” he gestured around him, indicating the world, “is so complex, so intricate, I can hardly hope to break such an illusion if I find myself questioning whether or not it even exists. My only hope would be to continue on and hope my subconscious leads me to an exit, shows me some loophole.” It was a question for philosophers, not shinobi. Perhaps Kami himself was some mighty shinobi, holding everyone in his all-powerful Genjutsu. It wasn't for Shiro to know.

And yet...

“I feel as though this is real,” Shiro said, quietly, yet with conviction. “I feel it in my gut. With nothing else available to me, I can only trust myself. As for the matter of dreams...” He felt a grin come over his face. “This is no dream. I can tell you that for sure. I dream without colour, and your hair, sir, is quite red.” It was laughably simple, but it was, to Shiro, unassailable fact. It was strange, how the heaviest questions could be answered in the lightest of ways. He felt something similar to ease in his soul. He could while away the time, debating such questions...

[/blockquote]

[suzaku]

Intermission!

"Oh? the stranger mused to himself, his grin growing more wide and his eyes becoming light with glee, "a man who blends instinct and logic, how unexpected!" He clapped his hands before him, then swung to his side, slapping a hand on Shiro's back and then draping the same arm over his shoulder. He'd tug him softly, enough to pull him in towards his chest.

"So tell me then," he started, his voice low and quiet, "why did you touch the talismans?" He cast a sidelong glare at Shiro—it was a heavy gaze that studied the man wholly. He would not speak, nor would he move; the strange man would hold Shiro at his side and await his response.