The Dungeon [P]

[Shinryu]

This thread is for myself, Naga, and Obsidian.

You may only enter if you have Naga's permission, and/or are a Jounin, an ANBU, or a former Kage of Sunagakure.

---

The lump of a human on Ryuuji's shoulder was still breathing steadily, despite his paralysis, and his unconscious state. How much he had seen and heard would be interesting to know, and the man made of sand intended to find all of that out, in due time. Meanwhile, he would follow this hooded, masked stranger along, wondering what exactly had gone on in the Kazekage's office.

Ryuuji was no moron. The tone of Masuyo's voice, the words he spoke; he had greeted this man as though he were a friend. And yet, Raizel himself had said that he had planned to make Masuyo an official part of Sunagakure's army. If he wasn't a member of Sunagakure, and yet he was then where did he hail from, and how did he know one of the ANBU by sight alone? Or, perhaps things were not all as they seemed...

"This Raizel is an interesting fellow. Still, it does seem odd that his election and nomination were so hushed up. Usually there would be some kind of celebration for a new kage taking over."

The pair of them, this ANBU who was known to someone not from our village, and this new kage who had been unheard of up until Ryuuji had met him... They both aroused his suspicions, and for the time being, he would trust neither of them, and press them for whatever information he could get.

"Then again, I'd never heard of a Jounin named Raizel, either, so his entire presence seems... out of place. Wouldn't you say, ANBU-taicho?"

His words were a veil, masked behind complete buffoonery and a lackadasial nature that belied his true feelings on the matter. Letting his suspicion hang openly and off the cuff, and gauging the reactions of those whom he questioned would hopefully garner him all the information he needed about this ANBU and Raizel in order to confirm or disprove his thoughts.

[marvolous.]

"You are thinking too deeply into the matter." I conceded, leading Ryuuji deeper and deeper within the Kazekage building. I wasn't exactly sure where exactly I was leading him, but I could only assume the further we delved towards the main foundation, the closer we would get to the basement. "Sunagakure is in a state of recession, and has been for many years. There is no need to celebrate where there is work to be done. This, like the many issues the Kazekage is dealing with, takes precedent."

Just by gauging the man's thoughts and mannerisms, I was sure he wasn't done trying to be a detective, so I quickly changed the subject. "This isn't the time or place to be discussing such things. You have a dangerous task ahead of you, focus on that if you want to get good results." It did not take long for us to reach our destination. After a rather hefty amount of stairs, we were brought to the only door on the bottom floor. There was a sign that explicitly stated no entry, but it was ignored.

"This will be different from anything you have ever done as a shinobi." I began, opening the door and stepping through. Once Ryuuji followed suit, it would be closed and locked. "Killing another man is easy. Most of the time it is quick, and sometimes it is even effortless. Torture, however, is much different. He'll scream, cry, and perhaps even shit himself - but it is crucial that you do not falter, not even slightly. If you do you will be seen as weak, and will fail. Understood?"

A simple hand gesture would be all that was needed to direct Ryuuji to place the unconscious men on the metal table in the middle of the room. There were straps and chains attached to it, ensuring that he wouldn't be able to move and break out of it even if he tried.

[BLKND]

It would take some time to finally understand the magnitude of what had happened to him. While conscious throughout the duration of the visit to the Kage Tower, he had been knocked unconscious shortly afterward. Breaking free of what seemed to be an eternity of paralysis, he would finally begin to feel what it was like to have skin. His body was still numb, having gone so long without a single working nerve would do the trick. So as he would look up at what appeared to be the faces of his captors, he knew that what would happen to him next would offset them greatly. He was no machine- he was a human being. The bonds which confined him was proof of that. He was no monster, he was no other worldly entity, he was made of flesh and blood. His body was weak, and his mind still stable. Thoughts of his partner in this exact position would ring through his mind. The calm hazel eyes that would stare groggily through his mask would eventually see the war scars of a face that couldn't help but make him smile. Of course, hidden behind this shell, it would be easy to mock him. Once they were to remove it, his next mask would be composed of flesh... and his true mettle would be shown.

Laying as limp as he could, he would cock his head to the side in a sultry arrogance. His head would roll to the side, and as whatever lighting there was would reveal the glimmer of color behind the shadowy slits, his masked nature would once more reveal itself. His tongue would slowly peel from the bottom of his mouth as he would gain an almost newfound feeling. Kala's soft eyes staring at him through her own lens. This was slightly different. Despite her betrayal, and despite still haunting him... she awaited her punishment, alive, and fed. No, the circumstances were different here. There was no hope for him today. As he would stare into the eyes of the man who had brought him here, his memory of a fire red hair hue would frustrate him. It wasn't the face of the man in front of him that he would fear, nor the face of the red headed man to whom had betrayed him only moments before Ibaru could place a knife in his back- no. It was the face of his commander, and the warmth of a woman. Those sensations, the booze, the drugs, the women and the lust, oh god the lust, that's what frightened him. Whatever happened to him today, it didn't matter. He had prepared for this. What he hadn't prepared for? The realization that he kissed his last woman, suffered his last drink, and taken his last pill the night before his mission. Perhaps that was a good thing. Perhaps he really had experienced a life that the man in front of him hadn't... and he appreciated it.

He was fortunate enough for his enemies to yet know of his consciousness. He could use it to his advantage... but there was no safe way of telling if it would pay off. He would wait for the right moment, and as soon as it would present itself, he would act. If they discovered him? Not much would change. The most he could do was bide time until he was put out of his misery. He would simply wait for that moment to come.

// THREAD -- THE DUNGEON
//OOC -- Ibaru's final thread.

[Shinryu]

The ANBU who had escorted him was a treasure trove of information in his own way, albeit Ryuuji would say nothing to that effect as they entered a door. It was as Ryuuji had thought. The ANBU was defensive, not wanting to speak about the matter in any great length. True, his deflections were to the point, and as such, Ryuuji would defer to them, letting the issue slide for the time being. Merely the fact that his questions had been thwarted so readily with a refusal to answer directly was more than enough to tell him what he wanted to know. This Kazekage was most definitely acting under some kind of mask of propaganda... He steeled himself, laying the body of the boy down on the table. One way or another, he would get to the bottom of it...

However, for the time being, the masked ninja who had led him downstairs did not lie. He had a job to do, unlike, or so the man had thought, anything he had ever done before. Warnings abounded about how anything less than full determination would be seen as a failure while interrogating this man he had carted in. For all the waffling he did about procedure, Ryuuji could have smirked. He seemed to think that taking a life was somehow different than torturing someone; that killing was quick and merciful compared to drawn out pain. This man, whoever he was, however, was not Ryuuji. He had never used his body to envelop that of another, revelling in the sensations of crushing it inch by inch as he smelled the stink of fear and bodily fluids expending from them before they were permanently silenced. He had never been nearly as intimate with death as the man he spoke to so condescendingly, and as such the monster before the man would speak, his voice sneering somewhat.

"You can save your speeches for some other kid on his first job. I have absolutely no issue doing whatever it takes..." A smile lit up on Ryuuji's face as he turned to his would be instructor. "Because, you see, ANBU-taicho, I'm a monster. And monsters have no sympathy for the cries of mercy and screams of agony made by those more... pathetic humans... in fact... and that smile worked its way up into a crude and cruel grin, as he locked the cuffs around the boy's ankles and arms, ensuring he could not move or perform any ninjutsu. "You might even say we get off on them..."

And as if to demonstrate such, he would reach up to peel off the mask, staring down into the face of the one he had captured. He cared nod if the boy was awake or not, for either way, he would grab his cheeks, and stare down at him.

"You can call me Ryuuji-sama. I'll be your interrogator today, and for our first lesson, we're gonna figure out just how far I can bend you before you break."

With that, Ryuuji's arm would swing back, then forward swiftly, the stiff back of his sandy hand colliding with the masked man's face. That slap would be just the very tip of one massive iceberg that was about to show itself in full, as the sand man looked excitedly about the room to the cruel instruments of torture afforded to him. Perhaps when he was finished with this one, he would ask this Raizel if he could be put in charge of ALL interrogations.

[marvolous.]

Frankly, I was surprised by the man's casual acceptance of such a cruel and inhumane task. It was surprising, don't get me wrong, but at the same time quite reassuring. This wasn't the first time I had the pleasure of teaching another the ways of torture, so, knowing that he was beyond complacent with the idea would allow this to run just that much more smoother. That, and well - it meant less work that I personally had to do.

"Make sure you don't kill him." A simple request, but one that I felt needed to be put out there, just in case. Ryuuji, afterall, seemed to be quite on the loose-end. "Aside from that, this is your interrogation. Do as you please." With that I stepped back, allowing Ryuuji all the space that he might need to do his various methods of torture. I blended into the shadows, watching from afar but still very much there. Unfortunately for our prisoner, even if Ryuuji was to snap, I wouldnt stop him.

---

OOC: Feel free to continue on without me. I'll post whenever I feel that something needs to be addressed. Have fun boys!.

[BLKND]

The dim lighting of this place was surreal. It was as if Ibaru had stepped into the first level of hell, dragged by the back of of one the devil's many loyal hordes. However, this particular horde was in the form of a 'thing' much lesser to a demon. He held a certain mystique, something that Ibaru had yet to figure out- not that he much cared. His chances had run out, and he was far too apathetic to the mysteries of his captors to put much effort in to it. Being placed onto the table benignly, it was the cold 'clamp' of the shackles that would show the true direction in which these next few hours, minutes, seconds would be heading. As the hand of the man would shuffle the mask from Ibaru's face, they would finally be able to see the humanity, or lack there of on each other's person. This man truly was a monster, but it was not the sort of monster that Ibaru would fear. It wasn't pain that would bother him, being injured countless times- wounds sutured, limbs reconfigured, comas induced throughout his years as a soldier. It also wasn't fear that wavered him, the constant threat of one's only associates being murdered every night for months on end, one's life constantly tossed between certain and feeble. No, whatever this man thought he knew about Ibaru was sure to be false. Born on the battlefield, and raised on the battlefield, the only emotion that would surge through his long scarred mind- was regret. Regret that he would meet his end to a pathetic man such as this. Old, ugly, and no doubt deprived of many carnal pleasures, perhaps this was the only thing that would drive him?

Ibaru could understand.

It was difficult to sustain a decent life when contest is the only interaction that you know? Sure, the drugs and the women were substantial, they filled their necessary void for a short period of time- but nothing soothed his lust like the weight of human life, shattering into oblivion. Perhaps thats what he meant when he so readily referred to himself as a 'monster.' Given his age, there was a possibility that he very well may have been aware of what horrors await a man in battle- but given his naiveness, it was unlikely. To even imagine Ibaru giving him anything, an answer to a question, a response to a taunt... it was almost laughable. Which is why as his swift hand would bludgeon Ibaru's defenseless face, knocking his head to the side, an eerie smile would surface from the pit of Ibaru's belly. Turning his soft hazel eyes back towards his interrogator, a soft exhale would sweep past his lips.

"How sad..." He would almost whisper, locking eyes with the older man.

While not in direct reference to the blow across the face, it was this extended contact that would attempt to relay a message to Ryuuji. It wasn't his strength that was the issue, or his resolve, to which Ibaru was unafraid to admit was strong... it was his person. As he would stare Ryuuji into the eyes which were nothing more than a fallacy to begin with, he would almost deliver the final words without speaking.

... your life must be.

// THREAD -- THE DUNGEON
//OOC -- Thanks Naga! Ryuuji, don't do any gay/stupid shit. Can't promise I'll post anymore if you do C=.

[Shinryu]

Dunno what you mean by "Gay or Stupid shit", but I'll try to refrain from it, either way.

---

The hazel eyes beneath the mask stared at him, a look of scorn and judgement fresh on the dark but pale face of he who lay upon the table. His whispered words perhaps were a challenge to the beast, or perhaps something more... Ryuuji stared back, his face void of emotion. Perhaps out alone, on the dunes, he was rash and easy to anger; but in here in total control of the situation, with nothing to bother him, he was unshakeable. He would let the man who lay before him know just what he was dealing with, letting those lifeless, glassy eyes stare back, as he responded slowly to the words, each one uttered calmly and clinically.

"No. Sad will be the moment when your kage opens the box I plan to send him when we're finished, and finds your mask attached to your severed head inside... but I'm getting ahead of myself."

Ryuuji looked over the walls quickly, searching for the tools which he thought would be most useful, whilst pacing back and forth in the dank and humid room. Once more his voice rose as he selected a round staff, with an end much like a shoe-horn, only far thinner.

"You're no child, so I hardly expect you to be scared, and unsurprisingly, you haven't shown any fear as of yet;"

Twirling it once between his sandy fingers, he looked down to the man he stood before, and almost smiled, as he slid the impossibly thin end of the tool beneath the nail of the masked man's left index finger.

"But I assure you, afraid or not, you will tell me what I want to know, eventually, if for no other reason than to stop the pain."

And as if to punctuate the last word, Ryuuji gave a quick yank upwards, prising the nail from the cuticle, smiling as a dribble of blood would no doubt spurt onto the floor, and waiting to hear the mans reaction to the sudden burst of pain. Nerve ridden as the fingers were, it would've no doubt been immensely agonizing, even for someone so seasoned. No doubt he would try to cover his reaction behind a veil of stoicism, but even so, there would be little doubt of the impact on the man. Pain was pain, and no matter how strong one's resolve might be, every man has his limit.

"But oh, where are my manners? You haven't even had a chance to introduce yourself. Do tell me your name, unless you'd prefer to simply be called 'you'."

The flat end of the bar would be worked firmly underneath yet another finger as he awaited the answer. Let him judge as he pleased. Let him think as he liked. Soon enough, the only thing left of him would be a broken husk of his former self.

[BLKND]

The two men would appear to find a synthesis between the two of them. They seemed to understand each other, as the two of them could only stare as a whirlpool of memories would no doubt circulate between the two. However, while they could easily relate to each other, they had no idea whom the other was. One was 'Ryuuji,' who fancied himself some sort of sadist, or interrogation expert. He had heard otherwise from the ANBU who would await for the interrogation to finish whilst waiting patiently in the penumbras of the room. The other was a man with no name. Calm, and patient to say the least, what was there left to experience other than the fury of a man with power. However, despite how much this man considered himself a sadist, he was far too foolish to be anything sinister. Closer to a monster than to a demon, he was pure force, beckoned by the will of a lord that knew, and owed him little. Ibaru would listen to the man's retort, grinning slightly as the man would make his way away from the table and towards what appeared to be a surgeon's table. The torture was about to commence, and that was nothing that couldn't be expected. Turning the opposite direction, Ibaru's grin would fade as he would speak loudly enough for the man to hear before he would return to the restraint table.

"Wrong again. It's sad how foolish you are, Ryuuji. It's foolish to think that because of the clothes on my back, I have any training as a ninja..." He would chuckle a bit before Ryuuji would return with his device clearly in hand. Ibaru's stomach would quiver slightly as he would begin to prepare himself for the sickening feeling of a slow pain. "... or that your eagerness to hurt me could convince you of that..." He would say with an uninspired exhale, quickly reversing, and sucking it in as he would feel the cold metal gripping his darkened nails.

The force of the pull was quick, so it would help him in the short run. With blood splattering lightly in the close vicinity of his finger, he would instantly curl into a clear expression of pain. His face would harden, and his eyes would slam shut. His legs would curl up, finding a harsh resistance from the cold chains that would jam against his still broken ankles. It was a slight pain compared to the injuries he had sustained a few hours earlier, the stinging feeling holding a lasting feeling over his body, and yet it was nothing that readily persuaded him to make any change in his persona. Releasing his breath in a quick flush, and as such releasing his pain, he would remain silent, the water in his eyes subsiding slightly as he would quickly regain his composure. Quickly forcing a smile, he would find solace in the years of training that was endured during his countless days on the field. The eyes of a woman would quickly appear in the front of his mind. Massive, and brown, they would blink sparingly. Her copper skin would feel soft beneath his rough, worn fingertips. He would quickly snap out of hit, and his attention would be guided back towards the man who had harmed him.

"... or that you are so naive to think that your efforts here will ever matter~" Trailing off into a chuckle, Ibaru would find himself turning back towards the opposite direction, mimicking Ryuuji's polite tones in a clear attempt at mockery. "How rude of me to laugh, in exchange, I will give you my name. Hehehe. It's Ryuuji." He would finish confidently, the stinging pain of his fingernail slowly subsiding as the warmth of his own blood would begin to curl around the tip of his index.

He would gleam gleefully into the eyes of his captor, and it would be clear from this point on, that this interrogation was only just beginning.

// THREAD -- THE DUNGEON
//OOC -- Thanks.

[Shinryu]

The insult, whether intended or not, would not slide idly by Ryuuji's mind. Implying that he was not a ninja, as well as claiming the name of he who tortured him; the combined implication would, had he perhaps been as young as he looked, have made him furious to the point of driving the instrument through the boy's throat. But the Sunagami had long since become a master of what little pride he still bore. He would not let the mocking taunts of a child pierce him. Not when he was in control.

"A pity you feel the need to prolongue this then, 'Ryuuji'."

The words were given almost lazily, as he began to pry off the next nail. He went much slower this time, the flat end of the rod slowly prising the flesh from it's covering as blood would again spurt from his hand. Of course, the amount lost was minimal. It was the pain, this time far more prolongued, that would be the focus of the true Ryuuji's goal, and if the man thought otherwise, then so be it, but the being that questioned him rather enjoyed the taunting. It only meant the one who tried to hide himself would suffer more.

After finally ripping the nail from the offending finger, Ryuuji would hold the bloodied covering up for its owner to see with his own eyes. Tiny bits of skin still clung to the translucent shield now parted from its owner, and a slight smirk came to his lips.

"See, now I don't buy the story of a man who hides behind masks...

...and I don't just mean that thing I pulled off your ugly face."

[/right]

His words were as snide and mocking as those of the clown who laid there before him had been.

"When I met you, you spoke as though you were a completely different person, trying my patience and tempting fate, right up until the moment that you were saved from death by that Kekkai man."

He wasn't fooled by whatever claims the boy tried to make. His mind was more than capable enough to weave together the threads that had been left behind so carelessly by one so smug and confident in his own ruse.

"What's more, you claimed to acknowledge my headband and its origins, and stood, still defiant and taunting me, prepared to fight me, despite myself having grown to a size so large as to dwarf the very ruins you took refuge in."

The confidence in his voice couldn't help but leak out a bit as Ryuuji challenged the impostor's lie. Perhaps he was arrogant, perhaps he was merely more than certain of what was yet to come. Either way, it would take a magnificent lie to overcome the accusations levelled upon the boy, accusations which he knew to be true, as he slowly slid the wedge beneath the man's ring finger, speaking again to cement his point as firmly as possible. Let him wriggle his way out of this; let him try to hide beneath some other alibi or alias. It didn't matter. Ryuuji had no doubt of what he was dealing with. No mere civillian would have gone off wandering in the desert and started baiting a shinobi for fun.

"Of course, that all changed once you came so close to brushing with death... I broke your mask, and I will continue to break as many as you choose to put on. When I run out of fingernails, I'll move on to toes. When I run out of toes, I'll start yanking teeth. When I'm done with teeth... who knows? I've got plenty planned already and we're just getting started- of course, I do hope you take the hard route. Interrogation is much more fun when I get to watch you squirm."

Another slow levering of the bar would soon part him of his third fingernail in as many minutes. Let the clown play his game. Soon enough he would run out of masks, and Ryuuji would come to find out the truth of this fool who thought himself so cunning.[/justify][/blockquote][/font]

[BLKND]

The pain of the oncoming 'ripping' of his own flesh was justified in his own self-appreciation. As the blood would curdle around his skin, and as his pale, brown skin would begin to plunge into a shaded crimson, he would glimmer at knowing why it was happening. The first finger nail was fine, quick and shocking, but the second was much more satisfactory. Slow, and excruciating, he would revel in knowing just how this man operated. His pain was hard to ignore, the trembling of his fingertips proving as much. As the man held the fingernail in front of his face, some feeble attempt to break his spirit perhaps, he would only squirm more at the inability to clutch his wound, the cool feeling of an exposed laceration leaving him to feel exposed. It would take an instant however for him to switch gears once more. As Ryuuji would finish his speech, the third nail being removed in a fashion very similar to the second, it would be then that his hand would go numb from the pain, his blood flowing from three different portions of his body, not to mention the insufferable amount of damage that would clot his arms from their initial snaps. If anything, this man was simply hastening the inevitable coagulation of blood that would stem into Ibaru's heart. He would show face however, his pain being much less substantial than the first two removals of his fingernails.

"You really are pathetic, Ryuuji~" He would stress, as if adding a layer of sympathy into his words, his head cocking to the side as if he cared for the man slowly ripping him apart. "All men have masks. What I once saw as a childish brute is now revealing himself as a perverted lackey. You're getting off on the sight of blood... why is that? Because you don't have any?" He would ask with an intrusive grin, staring into Ryuuji's eyes with a sincerely inquisitive stare. He didn't expect an answer. "There are far more things that frighten me than sadists, Ryuuji. Besides..." He would trail off, looking over at the ANBU once more, a soft smile shooting his way before his eyes would focus back onto Ryuuji's, wet from holding back the yelps of pain from the second finger nail. "... even you're not stupid enough to think that ninja are the only people with power." He would say with a straight face, holding it for a few seconds before bursting out in the same sort of laughter that Ryuuji had encountered when first meeting the man.

Shaking his shackles slightly, he would contort his body with a smile, fighting the feeling of limp sickness that had begun to overwhelm his body. He would hide it well. However, with each shot that he would take at Ryuuji would be backed with an even more powerful undertone. The quick references to his sadism were starting to wear thin, and eventually he would run out of effective torture devices. He threatened with fingers and toes, which was fine; something that Ibaru would anticipate, but by then, their time would be up, and Ibaru would be dead. If he decided to go with third phase of the threat, and begun pulling teeth, then that would only hasten the procedure. Even if he were to prolong the torture, there was nothing that would effectively work, and he had to be realizing that as the moments continued. He would either have to switch to something drastic soon... or be forced to question a corpse.

// THREAD -- THE DUNGEON
//OOC -- n/a.

[Shinryu]

The urge burned strong within Ryuuji to simply kill him where he lay. Perhaps the cheapest shot the man had yet dared to take; a sore spot that the Sunagami still nursed to this day. His humanity, or lack thereof, was something he still brooded over, much as a child might. Perhaps that was why he still tried to maintain the look he held even to this day, as a means of attempting to retain the youth that had escaped him. To try to hold on to some semblance of who he once was, before he had been torn from it all.

The anger and pain on his features was evident as the rod in his hand was released.


And so it fell through the air...

As though it were almost weightless...

Sinking slowly as though time had stopped...

Ryuuji's hand shot forth, throtlling the man on the table, as a metallic clatter ran through the room; the bar had hit the floor as those same bloodless fingers constricted around the man's windpipe.

"You think you can judge me, that I'm so beneath you, so much less than you are, because of what I am?! I COULD END YOUR EXISTENCE RIGHT HERE, YOU WRETCHED WORM, AND YOU'D BE POWERLESS TO STOP ME!"

And thus with a heave Ryuuji would draw the man back a fair measure, and slam him down again on the table, glaring pure fire into the eyes of he who dared in his insolence to call him a lackey. His sandy arm extended down, his body not needing to bother bending, as his hand took hold of the bar by the flat end, and brought the blunt steel handle across in a flash to collide with his captive's jaw with a loud crack.

If Ryuuji had lungs he'd have panted from the sheer rage he felt. However already he knew he was well out of line. His hand slackened on the bar as he attempted to reserve some measure of calm, staring down at the man he had bludgeoned, the same kind of arrogant fearful bastard he had spent most of his life hating. Or was that just another mask he was hiding behind. Either way, with the likelyhood of his jaw being broken, he doubted very much he'd get anything else out of him today.

"ANBU-Taicho, you might want to call a medic down. Think I might've broken his jaw..."

Perhaps it was lucky, then, that the Sunagami dared to look down at the offending tool, and back to where he had been prying off fingernails, for he too noticed the reddening of his captive's skin, all the way up his forearm, which wasn't usual by any means. He looked down to the blood still dripping from the man's fingers and saw much less than he expected of it, as well as it bearing a blue tinge. Blue meant it lacked oxygen, which meant it wasn't circulating properly...

"Fuck, get that medic here, ASAP. I think he might be hemmoraging internally from the wounds I gave him earlier."

With a troubled glance back to the masked man he had bludgeoned, Ryuuji spoke with a keen edge to his voice.

"You're not escaping that easy, you little shit disturber. Not if I can help it..."

[BLKND]

It was inevitable. The hours of untreated wounds, the countless number of bone shards lodged into every muscle of his upper arms, the crushed marrow infusing itself into his bloodstream. It had yet to show itself, and the bleeding had grown much worse than they would have ever anticipated. He of course had yet to feel it himself. With his tendons and nerves snapped just as instantly as his bones, he could never know how soon his body would spiral out of control. The amount of blood left in his body was pathetic, and as he lay there, staring out towards the darkness of the room, his jaw mangled, and mawed... it would appear as if he were almost sliming. The gleeful recognition on his face being merely a shell of the true joy that he actually held. The pain was so severe that it was numbing. Even if he could feel it, how easy would it be to sooth himself? He had been mangled, and beaten to the point of no return, and that would be obvious to not only the sand-man above him, but to the ANBU in the room, and finally to whatever sort of medical team that would be called in to save him. The small burst of anger from Ryuuji's hand had placed him quite firmly passed the point of no return. With a skull which would be smashed against the table in which he lay, the blood would soon reveal itself to have come from his cranium as well. A concussive break, no doubt.

With little energy left, Ibaru could somehow feel the quake in his heartbeat; the slowing of all consciousness. The times in his life where he really mattered had gone. He questioned whether or not his mission meant anything, or if his life had been nothing more than a game that the Rengoku had played on him... or more importantly, if he ever even cared. A final gasp at air would fall short as his blood would fill his lungs, a result of one of his numerous injuries. Coughing up what little he had left, it would run through his mouth, and splatter on the table at his side, quickly giving the room a new decorative hue.

/dead

// THREAD -- THE DUNGEON
//OOC -- IT'S BEEN REAL NGAS..

[marvolous.]

Unfortunately for our prisoner, even if Ryuuji was to snap, I wouldnt stop him.

I did nothing, even knowing full well that Ryuuji was losing his grasp over his emotions as time went by. I watched, gauging his various actions as they occurred, but nothing more. This was his interrogation to control, he would reap the success or failure of it by himself.

"Stop." My voiced erupted from the side of Ryuuji, my hand outstretched before him to prevent him from getting any closer to the dying man. "It's too late now. No amount of medical attention can bring him back from such a state." I turned towards him, that same hand pointing towards the door.

"Go cool yourself off. That's an order."

[Shinryu]

"FUCK!"

The one word was extolled forcefully as his arm came down upon the table of instruments with such power as to shake them in their containers. How had things deteriorated so quickly? He had been getting somewhere, making progress even, as he peeled the layers of the man's facade back, and yet now... Now he had won. The clown had gotten the best of Ryuuji, using his last breath to humiliate him. He stared at the pools of blood forming and felt rage such as he had hardly believed he could be possessed of. He wanted to make this man suffer infinitely for what he had done, wanted to make him feel pain like nothing else he had ever witnessed, but he was gone now, gone to a place where Ryuuji could no longer hurt him. Gone to that selfsame place that Ryuuji had tried countless times to send himself to...

The anger in him raged on unabetted, but there was little he could do to release it. He was murderous, and yet, he'd have to contain it, stopper it, bottle it up and store it away somehow, for it would do little more good to show how truly infuriated he was in front of the ANBU. He had suffered enough persecution and ridicule for what he was; he hardly needed another reason for people to fear him flying around the rumor mill. Still, he hated himself for being manipulated so easily. This man, whoever he had been, had gotten to the root of his anger so swiftly, and worse, he had provoked it to his advantage. Something Ryuuji had fought to control for years was simply made light of in such a manner...

He felt awful as he bowed his head, accepting the ANBU's order and stepping outside, hearing the soft clank of the door hitting the frame behind him as walked back up the stairs again, caught between brooding in the anger he was forced to contain and hating himself for letting such an easy target make light of him. Why hadn't he thought to ask the medic in the Kazekage's office to check his wounds? He hadn't intended for them to be lethal by any means, they were just supposed to break his bones; cleanly, even. How the man had suffered such extensive internal damage just plain made no sense to him. Had his control really been so faulty as to wind up harming him to such a degree? Was he losing it as a ninja now, too? He couldn't stand the thought of being beaten so thoroughly, so absolutely, as though all of his efforts for three decades had been pointless. More than anything, he needed to be alone, now, and as he left through the front entrance of the Kazekage's tower, he would stare into the unwelcoming sky, a sky that reminded him of that night...

Exit.

Continued in: Before I Drown...

[KEITH]

+60 - shane
+20 - naga
+45 - obs